A shout, and a loud hurrah! brought back the defendants, and Ludlow headed a charge upon the top-gallant-forecastle, again, in person.  A few of the assailants showed themselves from behind covers on the deck, and the struggle was renewed.  Glaring balls of fire sailed over the heads of the combatants, and fell among the throng in the rear.  Ludlow saw the danger, and he endeavored to urge his people on to regain the bow-guns, one of which was known to be loaded.  But the explosion of a grenade on deck, and in his rear, was followed by a shock in the hold, that threatened to force the bottom out of the vessel.  The alarmed and weakened crew began to waver, and as a fresh attack of grenades was followed by a fierce rally, in which the assailants brought up fifty men in a body from their boats, Ludlow found himself compelled to retire amid the retreating mass of his own crew.

The defence now assumed the character of hopeless but desperate resistance.  The cries of the enemy were more and more clamorous; and they succeeded in nearly silencing the top, by a heavy fire of musketry established on the bowsprit and sprit-sail-yard.

Events passed much faster than they can be related.  The enemy were in possession of all the forward part of the ship to her fore-hatches, but into these young Hopper had thrown himself, with half-a-dozen men, and, aided by a brother midshipman in the launch, backed by a few followers, they still held the assailants at bay.  Ludlow cast an eye behind him, and began to think of selling his life as dearly as possible in the cabins.  That glance was arrested by the sight of the malign smile of the sea-green lady, as the gleaming face rose above the taffrail.  A dozen dark forms leaped upon the poop, and then arose a voice that sent every tone it uttered to his heart.

“Abide the shock!” was the shout of those who came to the succor; and “abide the shock!” was echoed by the crew.  The mysterious image glided along the deck, and Ludlow knew the athletic frame that brushed through the throng at its side.

There was little noise in the onset, save the groans of the sufferers.  It endured but a moment, but it was a moment that resembled the passage of a whirlwind.  The defendants knew that they were succored, and the assailants recoiled before so unexpected a foe.  The few that were caught beneath the forecastle were mercilessly slain, and those above were swept from their post like chaff drifting in a gale.  The living and the dead were heard falling alike into the sea, and in an unconceivably short space of time, the decks of the Coquette were free.  A solitary enemy still hesitated on the bowsprit.  A powerful and active frame leaped along the spar, and though the blow was not seen, its effects were visible, as the victim tumbled helplessly into the ocean.

The hurried dash of oars followed, and before the defendants had time to assure themselves of the completeness of their success, the gloomy void of the surrounding ocean had swallowed up the boats.