nce more was called on to assist the surgeons in their painful task.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

A GLORIOUS VICTORY.

I began seriously to fear that we were getting the worst of it. Shot
after shot came crashing on board, and several more men were brought
down. I expressed my fears aloud to the surgeon. A poor fellow already
on the table about to undergo amputation overheard me. "Don't think of
that, sir," he exclaimed; "they are tough ones, those mounseers, but
we'll go down with our colours flying sooner than strike them."

At that instant our ears were saluted by loud cheers, which burst from
the crew on deck. Still the firing was kept up, and it was evident that
our ship continued in action. At last, another wounded man being
brought down, we heard that the _Renomme_, the French commodore's
frigate, had struck.

In a few minutes another cheer was heard, the firing ceased, and we had
the satisfaction of finding that the _Clorinde_ had also struck her
colours to us. My heart felt intense relief when I found that the
action was over, and that my young brother had escaped without a wound.
Then I recollected that those who had been killed had not been brought
below. I wondered that he had not come below to relieve my anxiety.
Those of whom I inquired could not tell me what officers had been
killed. The instant, therefore, I could leave the poor suffering
fellows I had undertaken to assist, I hurried on deck. When I went
below the frigate had presented a trim and orderly appearance. Now her
sails were torn and full of shot-holes, her running rigging hung in
loose festoons, with blocks swaying here and there, her bulwarks were
shattered, her lately clean deck ploughed up with round shot covered
with blood and gore, and blackened by powder. The thickening shades of
evening threw a peculiar gloom over the whole scene. I looked anxiously
round for William. I could not see him. My heart sank within me.
Could he be among the slain? A midshipman hurried past me.

"Where is Braithwaite, my brother?" I asked, in a trembling voice.

"There; don't you see him on the forecastle?"

I looked in the direction to which he pointed. My heart bounded up
again as I saw him directing the men engaged in bending a fresh
foresail, which had before concealed him from my sight. My voice
trembled with emotion as I ran forward, and, shaking him by the hand,
congratulated him on our victory and his safety. He seemed scarcely to