h was followed by a ball, which struck the rail.

"Not bad," said the captain, and turning, saw De Courval on the deck.
"Are you hit, man?" he cried.

"Not badly." But the blood was running freely down his stocking as he
staggered to his feet.

"Get him below!"

"No, no!" cried De Courval. The mate ripped open his breeches. "A bad
splinter wound, sir, and an ugly bruise." In spite of his protests, they
carried him to the cabin and did some rude sea surgery. Another sharp
fragment had cut open his cheek, but what Dr. Rush would have called
"diachylon plaster" sufficed for this, and in great pain he lay and
listened, still for a time losing blood very freely. The corvette veered
and let go a broadside while the captain looked up at the rigging
anxiously. "Too much sea on," he said. "I will lay his damn ribs on
Absecom Beach, if he holds on."

Apparently the corvette knew better, and manoeuvered in hope to catch
a too wary foe, now flying along the shallow coast in perilous waters.
At nightfall the corvette gave up a dangerous chase, got about, and was
off to sea. At morning the English war-ship caught the brig, being
clever enough to lie off the capes. The captain of the _George
Washington_ wisely lacked knowledge of her consort the schooner, and the
Englishman took out of his ship five men, declaring them Britons,
although they spoke sound, nasal Cape Cod American.

XII

An express-rider from Chester had ridden through the night to carry to
Mr. Wynne at Merion the news of his ships' return and a brief note from
the captain to say that all had gone well.

Though weaker than he was willing to believe, De Courval was able with
some help to get on deck and was welcomed by Wynne, who saw with sudden
anxiety the young man's pallor; for although neither wound was serious,
he had lost blood enough to satisfy even the great Dr. Rush, and limped
uneasily as he went to the rail to meet the ship-owner.

"Are you hurt?" asked Wynne.

"Not badly. We had a little bout with a British corvette. Captain Biddle
will tell you, sir. St. Denis! but it was fun while it lasted; and the
cutting out, too."

"I envy you," said Wynne, with swift remembrance of the market-place in
Germantown, the glow of battle in his gray Welsh eyes.

De Courval's face lighted up at the thought of it. "But now," he
said--"now I must see my mother--oh, at once."

"The tide is at full flood. A boat shall drop you at the foot of the
garden. Ca