ens of which adorned his state-room. If he ever
saw anything specially curious or choice in the shape of sword or
pistol, he never rested until he had made it his own; but when once the
coveted article had come into his possession he seemed to lose all
further interest in it, and accordingly, being also a good-natured
individual enough, he was always ready to lend from his stock, provided
an undertaking were entered into to take due care of the borrowed
article, and to faithfully return it.

To this accommodating friend I briefly stated my case, which was simply,
that as there was just a bare possibility--I did not like to put it any
stronger, remembering that he was one of the disappointed ones--of my
being present at the storming of the redoubt, I was anxious to be
provided with some more efficient weapon than my dirk, and that I would
feel very much obliged to him if he would lend me one of his swords.
This he at once did, bidding me take my choice, and I thereupon selected
a beautiful Turkish scimitar, the curved blade of which, inlaid with a
delicate scroll pattern in gold, was as keen as a razor. Tucking this
under my arm, and thanking him duly for his kindness, I next hurried
away to the armourer, and wheedled him out of a pair of ship's pistols,
together with the necessary ammunition; after which I returned to the
deck and awaited my ally, calm in the consciousness that I was now
prepared for any and every emergency. I was almost immediately
afterwards joined by Bob, whose face beamed with delight as he directed
my attention to a ship's cutlass which he had girded to his thigh, and a
pair of long-barrelled duelling-pistols which our fire-eating "second"
had entrusted to his care. We at once trundled down over the side into
our cockleshell of a boat, and, getting on board the "Mouette" with all
speed, roused up the anchor and dodged about well in view of the
admiral, keeping a sharp lookout for the "whiff" in the mizzen-rigging,
which was our especial signal for service.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE STORMING OF THE REDOUBT, AND THE ATTACK ON BASTIA.

As the afternoon wore on the wind grew light, and by eight bells it had
so far died away that it was practically valueless to the boats which
were to convey the naval brigade to the shore. The admiral, however,
would not allow the men to row, being anxious that they should reach the
scene of action fresh and vigorous; at the last moment, therefore, one
of the