y burned through the ropes and attacked
the sails, and the ship fell off and rolled helplessly in the trough of
the sea, where the two combatants soon left her far astern.

"I wish as how we could heave-to and send a boat to help them poor
fellows," cried Reuben Cole, looking at the burning ship.

"To my mind, the mounseer out there would be doing better if he was to
cry, Peccavi, and then go and look after his countrymen, instead of
getting himself knocked to pieces, as he will be if he keeps on long at
this game."

The sentiment was highly applauded by his hearers. There was not a man
indeed on board the frigate who was not eager to save the lives of the
hapless crew of the burning ship, which they had till now striven so
hard to destroy.

The firing had ceased; the grey dawn broke over the waste of waters;
astern was seen the smoke from the burning ship, with bright flashes
below it, and away to leeward their other antagonist making all sail to
escape. The battle was over, though the victor could boast but of a
barren conquest. The guns were run in and secured, and the weary crew
instantly set to work to repair damages. As the wind had fallen and the
sea had considerably gone down, the work was performed without much
difficulty. Captain Walford had narrowly watched his flying foe, in the
hopes that she might go to the assistance of her late consort. Her
royals had not long sunk below the horizon when once more the _Cerberus_
was in a condition to make sail.

Captain Walford considered whether he should go in pursuit of the enemy,
or attempt to save the lives of the unfortunate people from the burning
ship. In the first case he might possibly capture an enemy's ship, but
ought he for the chance of so doing to leave his fellow-creatures to
perish miserably?

"No, I will risk all consequences," he said to his first-lieutenant
after a turn on deck. And the _Cerberus_ stood towards the wreck.

The wind had fallen so much that her progress was very slow. The
English now wished for more wind, for every moment might be of vital
consequence to their late enemies. Not a man on board felt the least
enmity towards them; even the wounded and dying when told of their
condition looked on them as brothers in misfortune.

War is sad work, sad for those at home, sad for those engaged in it, and
the only way to mitigate its horrors is to treat the fallen or the
defeated foe as we should ourselves wish to be treated.