their guns,
sprang over the bulwarks into their boats on the other side nearest the
shore, and, before another boat reached the vessel, pulled away towards
where the troops were marching down to their support. The cables were
quickly cut, and amid a shower of bullets sail was made, and the prize
carried out. "I said as how he'd do it--I said he wouldn't be wanting,"
exclaimed Dick Rogers, as he gave his account of the cutting-out
expedition to his chums on board. "He'll do more too come another
occasion." That occasion did occur before many days were over. Two
days afterwards the "Blanche" was joined by the "Quebec" frigate, and
together, when sailing by Guadeloupe, they discovered the French
thirty-six-gun frigate "Pique" lying at anchor in the harbour of
Pointe-a-Pitre, ready for sea. Not to deprive his brother captain of
the honour he might obtain by engaging an antagonist so worthy of him,
Captain Carpenter parted company, and the "Quebec," steering westward,
was soon out of sight. The next thing to be done was to get the French
frigate to come out from under her protecting batteries to fight. This
seemed no easy matter, for prizes were captured and sent away under her
very nose, and still she did not venture forth. At length, however, on
the memorable evening of the 4th of January, the "Blanche," towing off
another prize in triumph, the "Pique" was seen to follow. The sun went
down. It was the last many a brave man was destined to see. Darkness
had come on, when the French frigate was observed through the gloom
astern. The "Blanche" tacked in chase.

In the solemn hour of midnight, while darkness covered the face of the
deep, the two vessels approached each other, their relative positions
clearly distinguished by the light from the fighting-lanterns which
streamed from their ports. The British crew, mostly stripped to the
waist, stood at their quarters, grim and determined, with the
gun-tackles in hand, eager for the moment to open fire. Pearce was on
the quarterdeck. Young as he was, the whizzing of shots and the
whistling of bullets scarcely made his heart beat quicker than usual,
and yet, as in gloom and silence he waited for the signal when the
bloody strife must commence, he felt an awe creep over him he had never
before experienced. Nearer and nearer the combatants drew to each
other. The "Pique" commenced the fight. The "Blanche" returned her
distant fire; and, after various manoeuvres, th