Go with me, like good angels, to my end.

“Henry VIII.”

Danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when we sit idly in the sun.

“Troilus and Cressida.”

I had never been able to regain the confidence and esteem of the first lieutenant since the unfortunate affair of the mast-head.  He was certainly an excellent and a correct officer, too much so to overlook what he considered a breach of honour.  I, therefore, easily reconciled myself to a separation, which occurred very soon after.  We chased a ship into the Bay of Arcasson, when, as was customary, she sought safety under a battery; and the captain, according to our custom, resolved to cut her out.

For this purpose, the boats were manned and armed, and every preparation made for the attack on the following morning.  The command of the expedition was given to the first lieutenant, who accepted of it with cheerfulness, and retired to his bed in high spirits, with the anticipation of the honour and profit which the dawn of day would heap upon him.  He was proverbially brave and cool in action, so that the seamen followed him with confidence as to certain victory.  Whether any ill-omened dreams had disturbed his rest, or whether any reflections on the difficult and dangerous nature of the service had alarmed him, I could not tell; but in the morning we all observed a remarkable change in his deportment.  His ardour was gone; he walked the deck with a slow and measured pace, apparently in deep thought; and, contrary to his usual manner, was silent and melancholy, abstracted, and inattentive to the duties of the ship.

The boats prepared for the service were manned; the officers had taken their seats in them; the oars were tossed up; the eyes of the young warriors beamed with animation, and we waited for Mr Handstone, who still walked the deck, absorbed in his own reflections.  He was at length recalled to a sense of his situation by the captain, who, in a tone of voice more than usually loud, asked him if he intended to take the command of the expedition?  He replied, “most certainly;” and with a firm and animated step, crossed the quarter-deck, and went into his boat.

I, following, seated myself by his side; he looked at me with a foreboding indifference; had he been in his usual mood, he would have sent me to some other boat.  We had a long pull before we reached the object of our intended attack, which we found moored close in shore, and well prepared for us.  A broadside of grape-shot was the first salute we received.  It produced the same effect on our men as the spur to a fiery steed.  We pulled alongside, and began to scramble up in the best manner we could.  Handstone in an instant regained all his wonted animation, cheered his men, and with his drawn sword in his hand, mounted the ship’s side, while our men at the same time poured in volleys of musketry, and then followed their intrepid leader.