The Chevalier Dumont had amused his leisure by running his eyes over the records of the naval history of his country, where he had found this and that commander applauded for throwing their top-sails to the mast, abreast of their enemies.  Ignorant of the difference between a ship in line and one engaged singly, he had determined to prove himself equal to a similar display of spirit.  At the moment when Ludlow was standing alone on the poop, watching with vigilant eyes the progress of his own vessel, and the position of his enemy, indicating merely by a look or a gesture to the attentive Trysail beneath, what he wished done, there was actually a wordy discussion on the quarter-deck of the latter, between the mariner of Boulogne-sur-Mer, and the gay favorite of the salons.  They debated on the expediency of the step which the latter had taken, to prove the existence of a quality that no one doubted The time lost in this difference of opinion was of the last importance to the British cruiser.  Standing gallantly on, she was soon out of the range of her adversary’s fire; and, before the Boulognois had succeeded in convincing his superior of his error, their antagonist was on the other tack, and luffing across the wake of la Fontange.  The top-sail was then tardily filled, but before the latter ship had recovered her motion, the sails of her enemy overshadowed her deck.  There was now every prospect of the Coquette passing to windward.  At that critical moment, the fair-setting top-sail of the British cruiser was nearly rent in two by a shot.  The ship fell off, the yards interlocked, and the vessels were foul.

The Coquette had all the advantage of position.  Perceiving the important fact at a glance, Ludlow made sure of its continuance by throwing his grapnels.  When the two ships were thus firmly lashed together, the young Dumont found himself relieved from a mountain of embarrassment.  Sufficiently justified by the fact that not a single gun of his own would bear, while a murderous discharge of grape had just swept along his decks, he issued the order to board.  But Ludlow, with his weakened crew, had not decided on so hazardous an evolution as that which brought him in absolute contact with his enemy, without foreseeing the means of avoiding all the consequences.  The vessels touched each other only at one point, and this spot was protected by a row of muskets.  No sooner, therefore, did the impetuous young Frenchman appear on the taffrail of his own ship, supported by a band of followers, than a close and deadly fire swept them away to a man.  Young Dumont alone remained.  For a single moment, his eye glared wildly; but the active frame, still obedient to the governing impulse of so impetuous a spirit, leaped onward.  He fell, without life, on the deck of his enemy.

Ludlow watched every movement, with a calmness that neither personal responsibility, nor the uproar and rapid incidents of the terrible scene, could discompose.