_Waterwitch_ had by that
time been shot away; her rigging was dreadfully cut up, and her wheel
smashed; and Captain Ward felt that, if the _St. Denis_ were to get
away, he could not pursue her. He therefore resolved to board.

"Come along, lads," cried Tom Riggles, on hearing the order; "let's jine
'em."

He seized his cutlass as he spoke, and dashed towards the ladder,
followed by Bowls, Bolter, Flinn, and others; but it was so crowded with
men carrying the wounded down to the cockpit that they had to pause at
the foot.

At that moment a handsome young midshipman was carried past, apparently
badly wounded.

"Och!" exclaimed Flinn, in a tone of deep anxiety, "it's not Mister
Cleveland, is it? Ah! don't say he's kilt!"

"Not quite," answered the midshipman, rousing himself, and looking round
with flashing eyes as he endeavoured to wave his hand in the air. "I'll
live to fight the French yet."

The poor boy almost fainted from loss of blood as he spoke; and the
Irishman, uttering a wild shout, ran towards the stern, intending to
gain the deck by the companion-hatch, and wreak his vengeance on the
French. Bill Bowls and Ben Bolter followed him. As they passed the
cabin door Bowls said hastily to Bolter, "I say, Ben, here, follow me;
I'll show ye a dodge."

He ran into the cabin as he spoke and leaped out upon the quarter
gallery, which by that time was so close to the quarter of the _St.
Denis_ that it was possible to jump from one to the other.

Without a moment's hesitation he sprang across, dashed in one of the
windows, and went head foremost into the enemy's cabin, followed by
Bolter. Finding no one to oppose them there, they rushed upon deck and
into the midst of a body of marines who were near the after-hatchway.

"Down with the frog-eaters!" cried Ben Bolter, discharging his pistol in
the face of a marine with one hand, and cleaving down another with his
cutlass.

The "frog-eaters," however, were by no means despicable men; for one of
them clubbed his musket and therewith hit Ben such a blow on the head
that he fell flat on the deck. Seeing this, Bill Bowls bestrode his
prostrate comrade, and defended him for a few seconds with the utmost
fury.

Captain Ward, who had leaped into the mizzen chains of the enemy,
leading the boarders, beheld with amazement two of his own men on the
quarter-deck of the _St. Denis_ attacking the enemy in rear. Almost at
the same moment he observed the fall of one o