Thus far the cockswain and his crew had the fight, on the part of the
Ariel, altogether to themselves, the men who were stationed at the
smaller and shorter guns standing in perfect idleness by their sides;
but in ten or fifteen minutes the commander of the Alacrity, who had
been staggered by the weight of the shot that had struck him, found that
it was no longer in his power to retreat, if he wished it; when he
decided on the only course that was left for a brave man to pursue, and
steered boldly in such a direction as would soonest bring him in contact
with his enemy, without exposing his vessel to be raked by his fire.
Barnstable watched each movement of his foe with eagle eyes, and when
the vessel had got within a lessened distance, he gave the order for a
general fire to be opened. The action now grew warm and spirited on both
sides. The power of the wind was counteracted by the constant explosion
of the cannon; and, instead of driving rapidly to leeward, a white
canopy of curling smoke hung above the Ariel, or rested on the water,
lingering in her wake, so as to mark the path by which she was
approaching to a closer and still deadlier struggle. The shouts of the
young sailors, as they handled their instruments of death, became more
animated and fierce, while the cockswain pursued his occupation with the
silence and skill of one who labored in a regular vocation. Barnstable
was unusually composed and quiet, maintaining the grave deportment of a
commander on whom rested the fortunes of the contest, at the same time
that his dark eyes were dancing with the fire of suppressed animation.
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