ptain Runacles and a couple of dozen marines, English
and Dutch. Then followed Captain Denoyre with the _Sanspareil_, who
approached from the starboard side and lost both his masts as he did
so. In fact, the execution done upon his galley was only second to
that suffered by _L'Heureuse_. But as _Le Paon_ followed from the
same quarter, with the _Nymphe_ and the _Belle Julie_ heading down as
fast as oars could take them, Captain Barker cast a look back and
touched his old friend's arm.

The first of the merchantmen was entering the Thames.

"Better get back to the fo'c's'le, Jemmy, and entrench yourself."

Captain Runacles nodded. "And you?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm going down to the cabin--first of all." Captain Runacles
nodded again. They looked straight into each other's eyes, shook
hands, and parted.

It was obvious that the men of the _Merry Maid_ could no longer keep
the deck. She was hemmed in on every side and it only remained to
board her.

Twenty-five grenadiers from each galley were ordered upon this
service. Those of _La Merveille_ were the first to start and they
swarmed over the stern without opposition. But no sooner were they
crowded upon the frigate's deck than a volley of musketry mowed them
down. Captain Runacles and his heroes then ran back and entrenched
themselves in the forecastle; and to advance to close the hatchway
was certain death. Nor were they forced to surrender until long
after the English flag was hauled down: and, indeed, were only
silenced when M. de la Pailletine hit on the happy idea of setting
fifty men to work with axes to lay open the frigate's deck. A score
and a half of men were lost over this piece of work. However, the
forecastle was carried at last by means of it; and the prisoners were
brought on deck--among them Captain Runacles, with his right hand
disabled.

"Are you the gallant captain of this frigate?" asked M. de la
Pailletine, doffing his hat; for as yet he had received no sword in
token of the _Merry Maid's_ surrender.

"No, sir," Captain Runacles answered; "I have the honour to be his
lieutenant."

"He is killed, perhaps?"

"I fancy not."

"Then where is he?"

"Excuse me, monsieur, it strikes me he has yet to be taken."

"But the ship is ours!"

"Well, monsieur, you have hauled down our colours and I can't deny
it. But as for the frigate, I doubt if you can call it yours just
yet."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Why, simply that you have