Chance had placed the two commanders on opposite sides of the
cutter's deck, and the victory seemed to incline towards either party,
whenever these daring officers directed the struggle in person. But the
Englishman, perceiving that the ground he maintained in person was lost
elsewhere, made an effort to restore the battle, by changing his
position, followed by one or two of his best men. A marine, who preceded
him, leveled his musket within a few feet of the head of the American
commander, and was about to fire, when Merry glided among the
combatants, and passed his dirk into the body of the man, who fell at
the blow; shaking his piece, with horrid imprecations, the wounded
soldier prepared to deal his vengeance on his youthful assailant, when
the fearless boy leaped within its muzzle, and buried his own keen
weapon in his heart.
"Hurrah!" shouted the unconscious Barnstable, from the edge of the
quarter-deck, where, attended by a few men, he was driving all before
him. "Revenge!--long Tom and victory!"
"We have them!" exclaimed the Englishman; "handle your pikes! we have
them between two fires."
The battle would probably have terminated very differently from what
previous circumstances had indicated, had not a wild-looking figure
appeared in the cutter's channels at that moment, issuing from the sea,
and gaining the deck at the same instant. It was long Tom, with his iron
visage rendered fierce by his previous discomfiture, and his grizzled
locks drenched with the briny element from which he had risen, looking
like Neptune with his trident.
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