heart on board the King’s cruiser.  The momentary interval of suspense was passed in unchanged attitudes and looks of deep attention; and then the rushing of the iron storm was heard hurtling through the air, as it came fearfully on.  The crash that followed, mingled, as it was, with human groans, and succeeded by the tearing of riven plank, and the scattering high of splinters, ropes, blocks, and the implements of war, proclaimed the fatal accuracy of the broadside.  But the surprise, and, with it, the brief confusion, endured but for an instant.  The English shouted, and sent back a return to the deadly assault they had just received, recovering manfully and promptly from the shock which it had assuredly given.

The ordinary and more regular cannonading of a naval combat succeeded.  Anxious to precipitate the issue, both ships pressed nigher to each other the while, until, in a few moments, the two white canopies of smoke, that were wreathing about their respective masts, were blended in one, marking a solitary spot of strife, in the midst of a scene of broad and bright tranquillity.  The discharges of the cannon were hot, close, and incessant.  While the hostile parties, how ever, closely mutated each other in their zeal in dealing out destruction, a peculiar difference marked the distinction in character of the two crews.  Loud, cheering shouts accompanied each discharge from the lawful cruiser, while the people of the rover did their murderous work amid the deep silence of desperation.

The spirit and uproar of the scene soon quickened that blood, in the veins of the veteran Bignall, which had begun to circulate a little slowly by time.

“The fellow has not forgotten his art!” he exclaimed as the effects of his enemy’s skill were getting but too manifest, in the rent sails, shivered spars, and tottering masts of his own ship.  “Had he but the commission of the King in his pocket, one might call him a hero!”

The emergency was too urgent to throw away the time in words.  Wilder answered only by cheering his own people to their fierce and laborious task.  The ships had now fallen off before the wind, and were running parallel to each other, emitting sheets of flame, that were incessantly glancing through immense volumes of smoke.  The spars of the respective vessels were alone visible, at brief and uncertain intervals.  Many minutes had thus passed, seeming to those engaged but a moment of time, when the mariners of the “Dart” found that they no longer held their vessel in the quick command, so necessary to their situation.  The important circumstance was instantly conveyed from the master to Wilder, and from Wilder to his superior.  A hasty consultation on the cause and consequences of this unexpected event was the immediate and natural result.

“See!” cried Wilder, “the sails are already banging against the masts like rags; the explosions of the artillery have stilled the wind.”

“Hark!” answered the more experienced Bignall:  “There goes the artillery of heaven among our own guns.—­The squall is already upon us—­port the helm, sir, and sheer the ship out of the smoke!  Hard a-port with the helm, sir, at once!—­hard with it a-port I say.”