Mr. Correard was fallen into a kind of trance, but hearing every moment cries of “To arms!  To us, comrades!  We are undone!” joined to the cries and imprecations of the wounded and the dying, he was soon roused from his lethargy.  The increasing confusion made him sensible that it was necessary to be upon his guard.  Armed with his sabre, he assembled some of his workmen on the front of the raft, and forbid them to hurt any one unless they were attacked.  He remained almost always with them, and they had several times to defend themselves against the attacks of the mutineers; who falling into the sea, returned by the front of the raft; which placed Mr. Correard and his little troop between two dangers, and rendered their position very difficult to be defended.  Every moment men presented themselves, armed with knives, sabres and bayonets; many had carbines, which they used as clubs.  The workmen did their utmost to stop them, by presenting the point of their sabres; and, notwithstanding the repugnance they felt to combat their unhappy countrymen, they were however obliged to use their arms without reserve; because many of the mutineers attacked them with fury, it was necessary to repulse them in the same manner.  In this action some of the workmen received large wounds; he who commanded them reckons a great number, which he received in the various combats they had to maintain.  At last their united efforts succeeded in dispersing the masses that advanced furiously against them.

During this combat, Mr. Correard was informed, by one of his workmen who remained faithful, that one of their comrades, named Dominique, had taken part with the mutineers, and that he had just been thrown into the sea.  Immediately forgetting the fault and the treachery of this man, he threw himself in after him, at the place where the voice of the wretch had just been heard calling for assistance; he seized him by the hair, and had the good fortune to get him on board.  Dominique had received, in a charge, several sabre wounds, one of which had laid open his head.  Notwithstanding the darkness we found the wound, which appeared to us to be very considerable.  One of the workmen gave his handkerchief to bind it up and stanch the blood.  Our care revived this wretch; but as soon as he recovered his strength, the ungrateful Dominique, again forgetting his duty and the signal service that he had just received from us, went to rejoin the mutineers.  So much baseness and fury did not go unpunished; and soon afterwards, while combating us anew, he met with his death, from which he, in fact, did not merit to be rescued, but which he would probably have avoided, if faithful to honor and to gratitude, he had remained among us.