y guns and musketry
was opened on them, the bullets whizzing round them and wounding many,
though fortunately none of the boats were struck by the round-shot,
while, as they got up, pikes were thrust down at them and pistols fired
in their faces. The bowmen in the leading boats which had got hold of
the ship's sides were killed or wounded, and the boats dropped astern.
Among those hit was their brave leader, but undaunted he shouted to his
men to pull up again. Again as they did so they met with the same
reception.

CHAPTER TWO.

The First-Lieutenant was not a man to be defeated. Wounded as he was,
he still resolved to persevere.

"Never say die, lads!" he shouted, as they were driven back. "Give them
a taste of our powder in return!"

On this, the boats poured a hot fire of musketoons and small-arms
through the brig's stern and quarter-ports. It told with tremendous
effect, for not a shot was now fired upon the boats.

"On, on, lads!" shouted the First-Lieutenant; and before the Frenchmen
could recover, the boats were hanging on to her quarters, and the crews
were climbing up on deck. The First-Lieutenant, in spite of his wooden
leg and wound, was among the foremost. My father, though also hit,
followed close behind the brave young mate--Harry Oliver. Scarcely had
they gained the brig's deck, however, ere the Frenchmen rallied and
opposed them with the most determined bravery. The English crew
climbing up one after the other, quickly gained possession of the whole
of the after part of the brig, not, however, without several being
killed and wounded, the Second-Lieutenant being among the former. He
was cut down, after being twice shot through the body. For a few
minutes a most bloody and tremendous conflict ensued. A Frenchman
thrust his pike through Mr Oliver's side, and another was following it
up with his sword, and would certainly have put an end to the young
officer, had not my father, just as he got an ugly prong in his side of
the same description, with one sweep of his cutlass brought the man to
the deck, never to move again. French crews can very seldom, if ever,
stand against English boarders. The bravest of the enemy were cut down,
or began to give way. My father, with Mr Oliver on one side and the
First-Lieutenant and Master on the other, with the men at their backs,
now made a clear path, strewing the decks with the bodies of those who
attempted to oppose them. The remainder of the