t had occurred, "It's little Billy True Blue,
sir, standing up and a-swearin' as how he'll drub the Frenchmen," was
the answer.

Even Captain Penrose at such a moment, which must be awful to all
thinking men when about to engage in deadly combat with an enemy, could
not help smiling at the account, however much he might be inclined to
doubt the correctness of the assertion.

"Let him get a little bigger before we try his metal," he replied.
"Take him below at once. We are nearing the enemy's line, and shall
soon have their shot come rattling aboard us."

The day had drawn on before the two hostile fleets could approach each
other; but the rear ships, from want of wind, were far astern when the
_Princessa_, _Shrewsbury_, _Intrepid_, and _Montague_, leading, followed
closely by the _Terrible_ and _Ajax_, got into action and bore the whole
fire of the van and centre of the French fleet. Right gallantly did the
English tars stand to their guns; and seldom have they had more need of
their boasted courage. Round-shot and chain-shot and langridge came
showering thickly down upon them. The English line was to windward, and
might easily have got out of the fight; but this the Captains disdained
to do, though anxiously looking for the assistance of their friends.
The wind more than once shifted, and each time that it did so, it
enabled the French to bring more of their ships down on the English
centre, especially on the _Terrible_. She looked like some noble
monster brought to bay. Although with one opponent abeam, and two
others on her bows, and another on her quarter, pouring their shot in
upon her, not a man flinched from his gun. Numbers fell, killed or
wounded, but their places were instantly supplied by their shipmates.
Several guns were dismounted, but others were got over from the opposite
side, and fought with the most determined spirit. The brave old Captain
walked the quarterdeck as coolly as if no enemy was in sight, casting an
eye aloft every now and then, to assure himself that the flag, which he
had resolved should fly to the last, was still untouched.

Paul Pringle was one of the quartermasters at the helm. Several
shipmates and friends had fallen around him. He saw the enemy's shot
striking the ship's sides between wind and water, and he could not help
feeling the very perilous position in which the old ship was placed. In
spite, however, of the tumult, the death and havoc which raged around
him, h