nd
particularly such fire-eaters as ours. So to it we went, and a
desperate struggle ensued, the numbers being nearly equal on both sides;
but they had the advantage of their own deck and bulwarks. We got on
board, however, and in a few minutes gained possession, with a loss on
our side, of sixteen; and on that of our opponent's of twenty-six killed
and wounded. But great was our sorrow and disappointment when we
discovered that we had shed the blood of our friends, while we had lost
our own. The vessel, it appeared, was a Gibraltar privateer; they took
us for French, our boats being fitted with tholes and grummets for the
oars in the French fashion; and we supposed them to be French from their
colours and the language in which they hailed us. In this affair we had
three officers killed or wounded, and some of our best men. The
privateer was manned by a mixed crew of all nations, but chiefly Greeks;
and although ostensibly with a commission signed by the Governor of
Gibraltar, were no doubt little scrupulous as to the colours of any
vessel they might encounter, provided she was not too strong for them.

After this unfortunate mistake we proceeded to Malta: the captain
expecting a severe rebuke from his admiral, for his rashness in sending
away his boats to attack a vessel without knowing her force.
Fortunately for him, the admiral was not there; and before we met him,
the number of prizes we had taken was found sufficient in his eyes to
cover our multitude of sins, so the affair blew over.

While we lay in Malta Harbour, my friend Murphy fell overboard one
night, just after all the boats were hoisted in; he could not swim, and
would have been drowned if I had not jumped overboard and held him up
until a boat was lowered down to our assistance. The officers and
ship's company gave me more credit for this action than I really
deserved. To have saved any person under such circumstances, they said,
was a noble deed; but to risk my life for a man who had always, from my
first coming into the ship, been my bitterest enemy, was more than they
could have expected, and was undoubtedly the noblest revenge that I
could have taken. But they were deceived--they knew me not: it was my
vanity, and the desire of oppressing my enemy under a weight of
obligation, that induced me to rush to his rescue; moreover, as I stood
on the gangway witnessing his struggles for life, I felt that I was
about to lose all the revenge I had so