The men instinctively cheered. "That will do; now knock off, my boys, and
let us run for it. Keep her awav again; make all sail."
Jonathan was for an instant paralysed by our impudence; but just as we were
getting before the wind, he yawed, and let drive his whole broadside; and
fearfully did it transmogrify us. Half an hour before we were as gay a
little sloop as ever floated, with a crew of I20 as fine fellows as ever
manned a British man--of--war. The iron--shower sped--ten of the hundred
and twenty never saw the sun rise again; seventeen more were wounded, three
mortally; we had eight shot between wind and water, our maintop--mast shot
away as clean as a carrot, and our hull and rigging otherwise regularly cut
to pieces. Another broadside succeeded; but by this time we had bore up
thanks to the loss of our after sail, we could do nothing else; and what
was better luck still, whilst the loss of our maintop--mast paid the brig
off on the one hand, the loss of head--sail in the frigate brought her as
quickly to the wind on the other; thus most of her shot fell astern of us;
and, before she could bear up again in chase, the squall struck her, and
carried her maintop--mast overboard.
This gave us a start, crippled and bedevilled though we were; and as the
night fell, we contrived to lose sight of our large friend. With
breathless anxiety did we carry on through that night, expecting every
lurch to send our remaining topmast by the board; but the weather
moderated, and next morning the sun shone on our bloodstained decks, at
anchor off the entrance to St George's harbour.
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