serable fate.

Very soon all the ships of war parted company, and the _Ramillies_ was
left with a few merchantmen only around her. Her crew were exerting
themselves to the utmost to save her. Some of her guns and her heavy
stores were, during the course of the day, thrown overboard, in the
hopes of easing her; but she still laboured violently, and the pumps
could not be cleared. Two more anxious days passed, and, in spite of
all their efforts, the leak increased till there were ten feet of water
in the hold. The Admiral now began to despair of saving the ship.
Happily the gale had abated, so he made a signal to the merchantmen
still in his company to come down to his assistance, and to take on
board his crew. Their boats thickly surrounded his flagship, and by
four o'clock in the afternoon all the ship's company of the _Ramillies_
were distributed among them. She had by this time fifteen feet of water
in her hold.

The last sad act of the drama was to be performed. By the directions of
the Admiral, her commander, Captain Moriarty, set her on fire fore and
aft, and then, with his boat's crew, pulled on board the merchantman
prepared to receive him. In a few minutes the fine old ship with a loud
explosion blew up, and the merchantmen she had been convoying sailed on
their way.

On the 4th of October, the _Canada_, 74, Captain Cornwallis, reached
Spithead, and brought accounts of the hurricane and its dreadful
effects. In vain those who had friends on board that large fleet waited
to hear tidings of them. The Admiral and his scattered crew arrived,
but no other man-of-war of all the number ever reached the shores of Old
England.

After the _Hector_ parted company from the fleet, she continued on her
solitary voyage. Her leaky condition made it necessary to keep her
pumps constantly going, a task which her weakened crew were ill able to
perform. Had it not been for Paul Pringle and his shipmates from the
_Fame_, the greater number would soon have flinched from the work.

Sam Smatch, too, aided not a little, and his fiddle was in constant
requisition to keep up their spirits. When not engaged in playing for
the amusement of the men, he employed himself in fiddling to little True
Blue, whom Tom Snell had lately undertaken to instruct in dancing a
hornpipe. No more apt scholar was ever found.

"Anybody would know that he was a true sailor's son by the way the
little chap handles his feet!" exclaimed Tom wi