up with
the chase, it was not worth while to throw their shot away. As the
darkness increased, the wind got up more and more, and so did the sea,
and all around looked very gloomy and threatening.

"We must shorten sail, sir!" exclaimed Tom Marline at last, who had been
looking up ever and anon at the bending, quivering spars.

"Never mind, my man," said Johnny Nott with the greatest coolness, "the
brig will do that for herself better than we can. We have enough to do
just now to try and wing the enemy."

There seemed a fair chance of their doing this. The guns were
excellent, and True Blue's gunnery was first-rate. But as the brig
tumbled about and pitched more and more, he found greater difficulty in
taking aim. Still he persevered, and so did Mr Nott; and as it was far
too dark for them to see the effects of their shot, they both hoped that
they were doing a great deal of damage. One thing concerned Paul
exceedingly. He feared that, the instant they hauled their wind and got
out of their previous course, the masts would go over the side.

Still True Blue, regardless of everything else, kept firing away as fast
as ever. What did he care what might happen besides just then? There
was a fine brass gun he had been ordered to serve, and there was the
enemy. The scud was flying rapidly overhead, the wind howled, the
thunder roared, and flash after flash burst forth from the sky, mocking
the tiny light of the British guns. The whole ocean was of a dark slaty
hue, with white, hissing, foaming crests dancing up as far as the eye
could reach, while many came hissing up and almost leaped on board. The
brig went tearing along, her masts bending and writhing as if they were
about to be torn out of her. Suddenly there was a terrific crash, and
both the tall masts leant over and went by the board. Fortunately they
fell forward and none of the party was hurt.

"Well, we have shortened sail with a vengeance!" cried the midshipman,
even at that moment unable to restrain a joke, though he felt in no
joking mood. "Never mind the guns now. Let us clear the wreck.
Perhaps the Frenchman may pass us in the dark."

This was a wise thought, as it was the best thing that could be done.
With axes and knives they set energetically to work to cut the ropes
which kept the masts and spars thumping against the vessel's sides like
battering-rams.

While thus engaged, True Blue exclaimed:

"See, see!--what is that?"

All ha