on the starboard
side of our big antagonist, and thus we kept running parallel to each
other, sometimes on a wind and sometimes nearly before it--we trying to
prevent her from luffing again across our bows or under our stern, and
she not allowing us to perform the same manoeuvre. Never in a single
combat was there a fiercer fight. We worked our guns with desperate
energy--not that we ever doubted that we should be the victors, but we
knew that we must fight hard to win the victory.

For upwards of a couple of hours we had been hotly engaged, when a loud
cheer broke from us. We had shot away the enemy's main-topsail-yard.
We, however, had suffered greatly, not only in spars, but our running
rigging had been literally cut to pieces. A number of our men, also,
lay killed and wounded about our decks; and though the latter were
carried below as fast as possible, their places were rapidly supplied by
others doomed to suffer the same fate.

The loss of the enemy's main-topsail-yard caused us to forge ahead, but
unhappily, from the condition of our running rigging, we could neither
shorten sail nor back our main-topsail. Our captain therefore resolved
to endeavour to cross the bows of the _Ville de Milan_.

The order was given to put the helm down. At that moment a shot struck
the wheel, knocking it to pieces and killing one of the men standing at
it. There we lay, with the ship utterly unmanageable and at the mercy
of our opponent. It was enough to make us weep with sorrow, but instead
of that we set to work to try and get tackles on to the tiller to steer
by.

"Look out, my lads! stand by to repel boarders!" sang out our captain.

At that moment the enemy bore up and ran us on board, her bowsprit and
figure-head passing over our quarter-deck, abaft the main rigging. I
was on the quarter-deck. As I saw the bows of our huge enemy grinding
against our sides, our ship rolling terrifically, while the other was
pitching right at us as it were, I felt that never were British courage
and resolution more required than at that moment. It was put to the
test.

"Repel boarders!" was the shout. On came the Frenchmen, streaming in
crowds over their forecastle. We met them, cutlass and pistol in hand,
and with loud shouts drove them back to their own ship. They must not
have been sorry to get there, for every instant it appeared that our
gallant frigate would go down under the repeated blows given us by our
opponent.