How long the light continued I could not tell; but all at once, as it seemed to me, the enemy disappeared; there was no one in front of me to hit.

“Fling off the grappling irons,” I shouted, and in a trice we disengaged them and cast them back whence they came.  The two vessels broke apart, and though ere we had left the smack behind, a volley of bullets fell among us, hitting three of our men, and giving me a burning wound in the leg, the fight was over.  We hailed our victory with a true English cheer, and I own I felt no little pride in having worsted so renowned a captain as Duguay-Trouin.

But I was by no means sure that we were wholly out of peril.  The sound of firing must have been heard for miles around, and we could not tell but that Duguay-Trouin’s own vessel, and maybe others, too, were making sail towards us.  Dilly had now set the course of the vessel due north, but the wind was against us, and we had still many hours to sail before we gained the open Channel.  A big red moon was peering above the horizon, and (having stanched my wound and done what was possible for my comrades who were hurt, none seriously, thank God!) I looked anxiously for signs of vessels.

By and by, as the light increased with the whitening moon, I did indeed behold a large vessel under full sail beating towards us, and I made no doubt ’twas Duguay-Trouin’s privateer.  The bosun said her course would bring her athwart ours, and I felt how barren our late victory would prove if she came to grips with us.  ’Twas clear she was outsailing us, and the seasoned mariners among my comrades foretold that in a couple of hours we should be at her mercy.

We had spread all the canvas we could carry, and could only wait and hope.  I sat on a coil of rope, suffering much pain from my wound, and trembling with anxiety as I watched the vessel drawing nearer and nearer.  A shifting of the wind helped us to mend our pace a little; two hours, three hours, four hours passed, and still the enemy had not come within range of us.  And then, as day began to dawn, I gave up hope, foreseeing a speedy end to the chase and an enforced surrender.

But a cry from Runnles, who had gone aloft, raised my drooping spirits.

“Four sail, sir, on the larboard bow,” he shouted.

I sprang up (forgetting my wounded leg), and looked eagerly across the sea.  By and by I discovered four vessels of a large size bearing down upon us from the west.  Whether friend or foe I could not tell until I saw the privateer change her course and at last head directly back towards the shore.  Then a great shout of thankfulness broke from the throats of us tired men.  We could no longer doubt that these were English ships, and we were alive with excitement when we saw two of them part from the others and go in chase of the privateer.  Would they catch her?  We forgot our fatigue and wounds, so fascinated were we in watching the pursuit, and the other two vessels were within hailing distance of us almost before we were aware.  English colors were now flying at our masthead, and a voice through a speaking trumpet called to know who we were.