Monsieur de Fontanges, bursting with impatience, stood with Newton, at the head of the men.  When the collision of the two vessels took place, the Windsor Castle, conned so as not to run down the pirate, but to sheer alongside, stove in the bulwarks of the other, and carried away her topmasts, which, drawn to windward by the pressure on the back-stays, fell over towards the Windsor Castle, and, entangling with her rigging, prevented the separation of the two vessels.

“No quarter, my friends!” cried Monsieur de Fontanges, who darted on board of the pirate vessel at the head of some men near the main-rigging, while Newton and the remainder, equally active, poured down upon his quarter.

Such had been the rapidity of the junction, and such the impetuosity of the attack, that most of the pirates had not had time to arm themselves, which, considering the superiority of their numbers rendered the contest more equal.  A desperate struggle was the result;—­the attacked party neither expecting, demanding, nor receiving quarter.  It was blow for blow, wound for wound, death to one or both.  Every inch of the deck was disputed, and not an inch obtained until it reeked with blood.  The voices of Newton and Monsieur de Fontanges, encouraging their men, were answered by another voice,—­that of the captain of the pirates,—­which had its due effect upon the other party, which rallied at its sound.  Newton, even in the hurry and excitement of battle, could not help thinking to himself that he had heard that voice before.  The English seamen gained but little ground, so obstinate was the resistance.  The pirates fell; but as they lay on the deck, they either raised their exhausted arms to strike one last blow of vengeance before their life’s blood had been poured out, or seized upon their antagonists with their teeth in their expiring agonies.  But a party, who, from the sedateness of their carriage, had hitherto been almost neutral, now forced their way into the conflict.  These were the Flemish seamen, with their long snick-a-snee knives, which they used with as much imperturbability as a butcher professionally employed.  They had gained the main-rigging of the vessel, and, ascending it, had passed over by the catharpins, and descended, with all the deliberation of bears, on the other side, by which tranquil manoeuvre the pirates were taken in flank; and huddled as they were together, the knives of the Flemings proved much more effective than the weapons opposed to them.  The assistance of the Flemings was hailed with a shout from the English seamen, who rallied, and increased their efforts.  Newton’s sword had just been passed through the body of a tall, powerful man, who had remained uninjured in the front of the opposing party since the commencement of the action, when his fall discovered to Newton’s view the captain of the vessel, whose voice had been so often heard, but who had hitherto been concealed from his sight by the athletic form which had just fallen by his hand.  What was his astonishment and his indignation when he found himself confronted by one whom he had long imagined to have been summoned to answer for his crimes—­his former inveterate enemy, Jackson!