charges of
musketry, till she was completely surrounded by smoke, an evidence also
that she had no breeze to assist her in manoeuvring.

Farther and farther off she drifted, till, with hearts foreboding evil,
the spectators on board the _Diamond_ lost sight of her in the distance,
surrounded by smoke. In vain they waited. The day wore on; there was
not a sign of their gallant Captain and his brave followers, and at
length it became too certain that they must have been taken prisoners by
the French.

A strong breeze now sprang up. After waiting off the port all the
night, the _Diamond_ ran across the Channel, and anchored at Spithead,
with the intelligence of Sir Sydney Smith's capture. The _Gannet_ had
not yet appeared, and True Blue, as well as Sir Henry, began to be
anxious, fearing that some mishap might have befallen her.

Two days passed by. On the third, True Blue was looking out to the
south-east, when he espied two ships standing in towards the anchorage.
He looked and looked again. One was, he thought, and yet doubted, the
_Gannet_, so different did she look to the trim and gallant little ship
she had but lately been; the other was a craft much of her size, with
the English ensign flying over the tricolour of France. The first soon
made her number, and left no doubt as to her being the _Gannet_.

An action, and a well-fought one, had evidently taken place, and the
corvette had brought in her captured prize; but then came the question,
who among shipmates and friends had suffered? True Blue could not help
thinking of Paul Pringle, whom he loved with an affection which could
not have been surpassed had Paul been his father, and Peter Ogle, and
Abel Bush, and his own messmates. Had any of them been killed or hurt?

He knew that Sir Henry, who had remained doing duty on board the
_Diamond_, would feel somewhat as he did; so he went to him, and Sir
Henry gratified him by saying that he would at once make arrangements
for returning to the corvette the instant she anchored. A boat was got
ready, and away they pulled for her. They were on board almost as soon
as the anchor was dropped.

True Blue glanced eagerly forward. Paul Pringle was on the forecastle,
call in mouth, issuing the necessary orders for furling sails. Peter
Ogle was not to be seen, nor was Abel Bush, but they might be about some
duty below; nor were Tim Fid nor Gregory Gipples visible, though they
ought to have been on deck.

Havin