and into the chains like cats, and in a few seconds all was noise, confusion, and smoke.  It was impossible to know what the result was to be for about a minute, when the cheers from our own men announced that the assailants had been beaten back.  But hardly had the cheering ceased on our side when another cheer was heard from the lugger, and the attempt to gain our decks was repeated.  This time the Frenchmen fought more obstinately than before, and it was nearly five minutes before they were repelled.  It was not yet dark (although the fog was thick), and you could make out their countenances pretty clear; a more wild reckless set of fellows I never beheld, and they certainly fought very gallantly, but they were driven back again; and once more were the cheers from the British seamen and soldiers mixed up with the execrations and shouts of the still contending, although retreating, Frenchmen.

Just at this period of the conflict I was standing on the poop by Bramble, who had been watching the result, when he said, “Tom, come with me:  do you jump into the main chains with a double part of the topsail halyards fall, and when the lugger’s mast strikes against the chains as she rolls into us, pass the fall round it underneath the rigging, and hand the end in to me.”

We both leaped off the poop; he gave me the bight of the halyards.  I crept out of the port into the chains and passed it round the lugger’s mainmast, as he told me, handing in the bight to him, which he belayed slack to the mainsheet kevel.  At the time I perceived a man lying wounded or dead in the main chains, but I paid no attention to him until, as I was about to get on board, he attracted my attention by seizing my leg, and making his teeth meet in the small part of it, above the ankle.  I could not help crying out, I was so taken by surprise with the pain; however, I kicked him off, and turning to look at him, I found it was a wounded Frenchman, who, perceiving what I was about, had paid me that compliment.  As soon as I was on board I heard the captain say to Bramble, “Well, pilot, he has had enough of it.”

“Yes, and he won’t escape, captain, for Tom has got him fast by the masthead, and they dare not climb up to cut themselves adrift.  All that you have to do now it to let the soldiers fire on his decks until they run below, and then our men can board and take possession of her.”

The captain, perceiving that the vessel was made fast, gave the necessary orders.  The soldiers lined the hammock nettings and chains, and such a shower of musketry was poured into her decks that the Frenchmen were soon driven below, and our seamen then slipped down her rigging, boarded, and took possession of her.  The prisoners having been ordered up and passed into the forehold, the wounded men were then looked after.  We had eleven wounded, but none killed; the Frenchman had eight killed and seventeen wounded; among others, the captain, who had headed the second attempt to board.  She was called the “Pucelle d’Orleans,” of twelve guns and a hundred and twenty-five men.