ing took place, in consequence of the accumulation of
smoke, which had so completely enshrouded them both that they knew not
where to direct their guns; and they waited until it should clear away,
that the firing might recommence. A light air gradually swept the veil
to leeward, and discovered both vessels to each other, at the distance
of half a cable's length. Captain Oughton was with Newton on the poop,
and the commander of the French corvette was standing on the hammock
nettings of his own vessel. The latter took off his hat, and
courteously saluted his adversary. Captain Oughton answered the
salutation; and then waving his hat, pointed to the English colours,
which had been hoisted at the main; as much as to say, "They never shall
come down!" The Frenchman (it was Surcoeuf) did the same to the
tricolour, and the action recommenced.

"Well done, my lads!" cried Captain Oughton; "well done! that broadside
was a staggerer--right into his ribs. Hurrah now, my hearts of oak!
this fellow's worth fighting. Aim at his foremast--another broadside
will floor it. It's on the reel. Newton, jump forward, and--"

But the order was stopped by a grape-shot, which struck Captain Oughton
in the breast. He staggered and fell from the poop to the quarter-deck.
Newton leapt down, and went to him. The torrents of blood from his
breast at once told the tale: and Newton called to some of the men, that
his commander might be taken below.

"Wait a moment, my dear lad," said Captain Oughton, faintly, and
catching his breath at every word; "it's a finisher--can't come to
time--I die game." His head fell on his breast, and the blood poured
out of his mouth.

Newton directed the body to be taken into the cuddy, that the men might
not be dispirited by the sight. He then hastened to the poop, that he
might reconnoitre the enemy. He perceived that the corvette had hauled
on board his tattered courses, and was standing ahead of them.

"He's off, sir," cried one of the quarter-masters.

"I suspect not," replied Newton, who had his glass to his eye, looking
upon the decks of the French vessel. "They are preparing to board, and
will be round again in five minutes. Cutlasses and pikes ready--
forward, my lads, all of us! We must beat them off!"

"And will, too," cried the seamen, as in obedience to their orders, they
collected on the forecastle. But they mustered thin; nearly half of the
ship's company were either lying dead or