Nevertheless the peril to the English sailors was by no means over yet.  The guns in the battery now opened fire upon the fleet of boats, and a hailstorm of shot and shell raged round them; so that the French sailors dared not leave the vessel, but crowded below out of the hot fire, preferring to trust to the tender mercies of their captors rather than to the guns of their countrymen.

“Tow her away under one of our own batteries,” was the order, given as coolly as though this leaden rain were nothing but a summer shower.

Humphrey sprang to the side, and cut the cable which anchored her to her moorings.  Just at that moment a glow of light through the fog fell across the deck, and looking up he saw a pillar of flame rising from the water close at hand, and casting strange lights and shadows upon the shifting mists which enwrapped them.

“They have fired the Prudent!” exclaimed Julian.  “Now we shall have light for our task; but we shall be a better target for the enemy’s fire.  We must lose no time.  Cut loose the second cable; we should be moving.  See that the boats are all ready to tow us along.  What a grand sight that burning ship is!

“Ah, I see now.  She is aground with the ebb tide.  They could not move her, so they have fired her instead.  There are her boats rowing for shore with her crew in them!”

It was a strange, grand sight, watching the flames enwrap the doomed vessel from stem to stern, till she was one sheet of rosy light.  Even the guns from shore had ceased to fire for a brief space, as though the gunners were watching the weird spectacle of the illuminated fog, or were perhaps afraid lest their fire should hurt their own comrades in the boats.  But the English sailors took advantage of the lull to set to their task of towing the Bienfaisant with hearty goodwill.

“She moves! she moves!” cried Humphrey excitedly, standing at the wheel to direct her course.  “Well pulled, comrades—­well pulled indeed!  Ah, their guns are going to speak again!  They will not let us go without a parting salute.”

The batteries on shore opened their mouths, and belched forth flame and smoke.  The ship staggered beneath the leaden hail; but the guns were too high to do mischief to the boats upon the water, and the sailors replied by a lusty cheer.  Julian wiped away a few drops of blood that trickled down his face from a slight cut on his temple; but for the most part the shot struck only the spars and rigging, whistling harmlessly over the heads of the men on deck, who laughed and cheered as they encouraged their comrades in the boats to row their hardest and get beyond reach of the enemy’s fire.

Wolfe had planted a battery himself just lately which commanded a part of the harbour, and beneath this sheltering battery the Bienfaisant was towed, whilst the sailors cheered might and main; and once out of reach of the enemy’s fire, rested on their oars and watched the grand illumination of the flame-wrapped Prudent.