d up unseen from below the horizon, and set
the lamp down right on the rim of the horizon, as on a threshold; as
much as to say, Gentlemen warriors, permit me a little to light up this
rather gloomy looking subject. The lamp was the round harvest moon; the
one solitary foot-light of the scene. But scarcely did the rays from the
lamp pierce that languid haze. Objects before perceived with difficulty,
now glimmered ambiguously. Bedded in strange vapors, the great
foot-light cast a dubious, half demoniac glare across the waters, like
the phantasmagoric stream sent athwart a London flagging in a night-rain
from an apothecary's blue and green window. Through this sardonical
mist, the face of the Man-in-the-Moon--looking right towards the
combatants, as if he were standing in a trap-door of the sea, leaning
forward leisurely with his arms complacently folded over upon the edge
of the horizon--this queer face wore a serious, apishly self-satisfied
leer, as if the Man-in-the-Moon had somehow secretly put up the ships
to their contest, and in the depths of his malignant old soul was not
unpleased to see how well his charms worked. There stood the grinning
Man-in-the-Moon, his head just dodging into view over the rim of the
sea:--Mephistopheles prompter of the stage.

Aided now a little by the planet, one of the consorts of the Richard,
the Pallas, hovering far outside the fight, dimly discerned the
suspicious form of a lonely vessel unknown to her. She resolved to
engage it, if it proved a foe. But ere they joined, the unknown
ship--which proved to be the Scarborough--received a broadside at long
gun's distance from another consort of the Richard the Alliance. The
shot whizzed across the broad interval like shuttlecocks across a great
hall. Presently the battledores of both batteries were at work, and
rapid compliments of shuttlecocks were very promptly exchanged. The
adverse consorts of the two main belligerents fought with all the rage
of those fiery seconds who in some desperate duels make their
principal's quarrel their own. Diverted from the Richard and the Serapis
by this little by-play, the Man-in-the-Moon, all eager to see what it
was, somewhat raised himself from his trap-door with an added grin on
his face. By this time, off sneaked the Alliance, and down swept the
Pallas, at close quarters engaging the Scarborough; an encounter
destined in less than an hour to end in the latter ship's striking her
flag.

Compared to