ed off; then the mizzenmast went. I expect
the fore will go next."

"What's his force? Was it a frigate?"

"I can answer that," said the brave master of the Mellish, who had
gained the Juno and fought well in the fight; "she's a sloop of
eighteen guns."

"Less than ours! We have twenty-two. Oh, Lawless, what a disgrace! I
can't understand it. Our men did well. And she goes free, and look at
us!"

"Ship is making water fast; we can't get at the fire forward either,
sir," reported one of the Juno's officers.

"Good God, can't we save the ship?" queried Lieutenant Lawless, of the
Acasta.

"No, it will be as much as we can do to get off the wounded, I fear."

"Back," cried Lawless, turning to the cutter in which they had come,
"to the Acasta, and tell her to send all her boats alongside; this ship
is a perfect wreck. She must sink in a few minutes. We have hardly
time to get the wounded off. Lively, bear a hand for your lives, men."

However, in spite of all that could be done by willing and able hands,
some of the helpless men were still on board when the Juno pitched
forward suddenly and then sank bow foremost into the dark waters,
carrying many of her gallant defenders into the deep with her. Among
them on the quarter-deck lay the body of the dead captain, the sword
which the magnanimity of his conqueror had left to him lying by his
side.

And this is war upon the sea!

CHAPTER XV

_Chased by a Frigate_

Three days after the sinking of the Juno, the Mellish, which had
escaped in the dark without pursuit from the fleet, after witnessing
the successful termination of the action between the two sloops of war,
was heading about northwest-by-west for Massachusetts Bay and Boston,
with single reefs in her topsails and close hauled on the starboard
tack. Seymour's orders had left him sufficient discretion as to his
destination, but Boston being the nearest harbor held by the Americans,
he had deemed it best to try to make that port rather than incur
further risk of recapture by making the longer voyage to Philadelphia.

The weather had turned cloudy and cold; there was a decided touch of
winter in the air. The men were muffled up in their pea-jackets, and
the little squad of prisoners, tramping up and down, taking exercise
and air under a strong guard, looked decidedly uncomfortable, not to
say disgusted, with the situation.

It had been a matter of some difficulty to disarm the prisoners,