we all began to suspect some
mistake: as the light increased, and we could use our glasses with
effect, we found too certainly that there was. The smuggler was painted
so as to resemble the Viper; and Sir Morgan had taken her for that
vessel on the night before: but we now suspected (and the event proved)
that she was her partner, the Rattlesnake--a ship of much greater force
with a piratical crew from the South Seas, and strengthened by some of
the picked hands from the Viper. She had come round expressly on this
service from the West coast of Ireland, where she had been hovering for
some time back. The officer, who commanded the Falcon, had no doubt
found his mistake before we did: but it seemed that, both for the honor
of his flag and on account of the affecting occasion, he resolved to
fight her under any odds. The wind moderated at this time: but he kept
on his course, and neared her fast.

"At three o'clock the Falcon ranged up within pistol shot. At this
moment the Rattlesnake showed her colors--black, striped with
horizontal crimson bars, the well-known flag of a rover that had of
late years fixed his nest in the Gallapagos, and thence infested the
South Seas. Not a shot had yet been exchanged: and just before the
action commenced we could distinguish Griffiths making her way across
the decks from the cabin to the cock-pit. Oh! what a moment of suspense
for us!--Oh! for some arm from heaven to strengthen the righteous
cause! Some angel to intercept the oppressor's triumph; or some
darkness to hide it from the oppressed!

"Never again may the innocent light of early dawn, when visiting our
quiet seas, and these peaceful valleys of Merionethshire, ascend upon
such a spectacle of human crime and woe as lay before me at that moment
of that sweet summer morning. There in front, upon the tranquil sea,
began the bloody strife--the thunder and the carnage:----On my right
hand stood the unhappy father, praying for some merciful shot to
dismiss his children from the evil to come:----In a gloomy fir-grove on
my left hand stood the guilty, but most miserable, mother--Gillie
Godber, spectatress of Sir Morgan's agonies, writhing with exultation
that her vengeance had reached his heart, and laughing like a fell
hyaena as she surveyed her work upon the sea.

"But why should I dwell upon these hideous remembrances? Let a few
words tell the issue: the Rattlesnake was greatly superior to her
antagonist in number of men, and th