Before proceeding with the account of the Mary Rose’s cruise, it may be well to insert here two newspaper extracts. One is from the Gibraltar Guardian of Wednesday, May 14th; the other is from the Paris Moniteur de la Guerre of two or three days later.

Said the Gibraltar paper: “Something mysterious occurred last night to disturb the enemy. At dusk he renewed the bombardment as usual, and with, if possible, more than his usual fury, and the batteries replied as they have replied every night since the 3rd inst. Soon after midnight it was reported from the top of the rock that rockets had been observed at the mouth of the Strait to the westward. A little later the entire French Fleet ceased firing, formed in two columns of line abreast, and steamed away in the direction in which the signals had been seen. Heavy firing followed, but though the flashes were distinctly visible, it was impossible to make out what was going on. The warships, which for some days have been lying in the Bay with banked fires, were ordered to get up steam for full speed, it being believed that our Fleet had come down in force to raise the siege, and that the co-operation of the naval flotilla here might be desirable. In about an hour the French came back pell-mell, and apparently in no sort of order, firing furiously. They went away to the eastward, as if in flight or pursuit, but that they were not in flight became evident early this morning, when most of them were discovered in their ordinary position under the African shore. Speculation is rife as to exactly what occurred, but it is certain that the enemy was surprised and seriously disturbed. One opinion is that heavy reinforcements have run through in order to strengthen the squadron at Malta. No news bearing on the subject has come in from the Spanish side, and, all the cables being cut, it is only from that side that we can hope to get any definite explanation.”

The Moniteur de la Guerre was more precise, but less accurate. It headed its dispatch, “One more Victory in the Mediterranean,” and described the affair as follows: “Early on the morning of the 14th, the cruiser Tage, which had been dispatched to the westward by the Admiral in command off Gibraltar to observe the mouth of the Strait, signalled the approach of the enemy in force, coming from the direction of the Atlantic. The enemy was soon afterwards observed by the cruisers Cosmao and Coëtlogon, which had been lying under Cape Spartel. The three vessels, undismayed by the superior strength of the enemy, advanced to the attack, and taking position on the flanks of the English squadron, discharged a succession of terrible broadsides, which must have been very murderous, but the effect of which could not in the darkness be accurately measured. Certain vessels were, it is declared, sunk by our fire; but the enemy was too powerful to be destroyed by only three ships. It was therefore with a sense of relief that the brave captain of the Tage remarked that his signals had been observed, and that, in reply, the whole of our magnificent Fleet, abandoning for the moment the bombardment of Gibraltar—which, we are assured, is already a heap of débris—was coming to complete the destruction which he had so nobly begun. It approached in two lines. In vain did the unfortunate English manœuvre to evade it. The shock was tremendous. It is recounted that our splendid ironclads rammed several of the enemy, which sank without leaving a trace. The struggle was desperate. One could not suspect that our brave Fleet could sustain so determined an attack without grievous loss. Alas! The beautiful cruiser Davout, struck by a torpedo near the bows, when she had already suffered severely from the gun fire of at least three ships, sank in less than an hour. The ironclad Terrible was also struck by a torpedo, but, though cruelly injured, is capable of being repaired. As for the brave Tage, she has received at least fifty balls, and has suffered horribly; but she remains with the Fleet. It is believed that but one vessel of the enemy escaped the disaster. She is an ironclad of the largest size, and of immense speed; but, pursued by some of our fastest ships, she should be by this time captured. Thus gallantly has our immortal Fleet confounded the efforts of the enemy to put once more his squadrons into the Mediterranean. That sea, cleared forever from the presence of the usurper by the glorious battle of Toulon, remains, and will remain, French. We offer the homage of our warm and enthusiastic congratulations to the brave Admiral and the brave officers who have added this triumphant page to the brilliant history of our great country.”

The Moniteur de la Guerre was not, it should be explained, an official print; but as the Parisians preferred its accounts to the official dispatches—which were by many degrees more modest—the paper deserves to be quoted as a representative of French views. Even the French Admirals were not able to give the true story of the night’s work; but that was not their fault. Of nothing is it more difficult to obtain a correct impression than an unexpected night action at sea.

It was true that some of the fastest ships of the French Fleet were engaged in the pursuit of the Mary Rose. When the sun was well up, Maintruck had little difficulty in making out that astern of him, at distances varying from two to six miles, were the Cécille, Alger, Troude, and Cosmao. The first, a new protected cruiser, of 5766 tons displacement, headed the enemy; then came the Alger, of 4122 tons, and, in order, the remaining pair, craft of 1877 tons. The two smaller vessels were nominally the fastest of the flotilla, having done at their trials about 19·5 knots, or half-a-knot more than the other two; but they were not big enough to do that speed in broken water, and, indeed, both chased and chasers were not actually doing much more than 17·5 knots, for all experienced some little difficulty in getting the coal out of the bunkers. Maintruck was assured, however, by Mr. Macpherson, that, if things came to a pinch, the privateer had nearly a knot of speed in hand, but the trimmers and stokers, who had been working like niggers all night, were naturally very much exhausted, and the chief engineer deemed it wise to spare them as much as possible.

There was much to be done that morning. The ship was in an awful condition, blood, splinters, and wreckage being everywhere; but a liberal use of the hose, and the exertions of the carpenter’s mate, Mr. Prism Brown, and Mr. Tiller, soon reduced things to something like order, and cleared away the most repulsive traces of the fight. The dead men were reverently committed to the deep, Maintruck reading over them the appointed simple service; and the wounded were attended to more fully than had been possible during the heat of the action. The enthusiasm of all hands was now extraordinary. Even men who had been badly hurt, and who, of course, had not closed their eyes for more than twenty-four hours, men who had worked hard at coaling ship off Wadi Gloug, and who had worked harder at the guns all night, declined to return themselves as injured, stuck to their posts, and expressed themselves as quite ready for another brush with the enemy. And Bowling himself set the example. He could not walk, but he caused a splintered arm-chair to be taken from his cabin and set on the quarter-deck, and then had himself carried up and placed in it in the warm sunshine, whence, as the good ship pitched slightly, he could see the foe in hot chase, with the spray flying white from their bows and the smoke rolling black from their funnels.

“Glad to see you on deck, sir,” said Maintruck, “though I suspect that you would be better in your bunk.”

“Nonsense,” said Bowling, “this air does one good. Besides, it doesn’t do to knock under. It shows a bad example to the men. It will be time enough to turn in when I get to Malta. But I’ll have you, Mr. Binnacle, and Mr. Tompion turn in at once. It won’t do for you to break down. Mr. Echo and one of the midshipmen shall keep watch, and you shall be called if necessary. How are Mr. Day and Mr. Salthorse?”

“They are both on deck, sir, and won’t go below,”

“Then send for them, if you please, Mr. Maintruck.”

The two officers quickly appeared, Day with his left arm in a sling and a bloody bandage, and Salthorse with his coat cut open, and his blood-stained shirt showing through the aperture. Both were pale but cheerful.

“Why don’t you go below, Mr. Day?” asked the captain. “I’m sorry to see that you are badly hurt.”

Day took his glasses from his nose, and said: “Oh, it’s not much, sir. If I stay on deck I can carry on well enough, but if I turn in, you know, I may get stiff, and not be able to be up when they come on again.”

“And what have you to say, Mr. Salthorse?” demanded Bowling.

“Say, sir?” returned Salthorse. “Well, you know how long I’ve been at sea, and you know that, until this cruise, the only fighting I have ever seen has been with niggers, Egyptians, Arabs, and that sort of ullage. Never had a chance, sir. Now there is a chance, sir, and with your permission I don’t intend to lose it. I’ll go below, but if I go, sir, you must put me under arrest.” He said this almost angrily, as if he suspected Bowling of aiming in an unjustifiable manner at the liberty of the subject.

“I shan’t order you below, then, at present,” replied Bowling, with a painful smile. “But do take care of yourselves, please, gentlemen. There may be plenty for us to do yet. Get chairs on deck or on the bridge, and then, if you really think that we can keep watch among us, I’ll order all the unwounded officers, and as many of the men as can be spared, to turn in. That is, perhaps, the best economy. We are not good for much more fighting just now, but we can keep some sort of look-out.”

And thus it happened that soon after breakfast, few beside the wounded remained on deck. Those who had only been bruised or scratched, or who had escaped unhurt, were all asleep or, at least, lying down. None took off their clothes, and hardly any enjoyed much more than broken snatches of slumber; but a sailor does not need sleep in large quantities at a time, and for him a rug on the bare deck or a ward-room sofa makes as pleasant a resting-place as any other in war time.

The Cécille occasionally fired her bow guns and the machine guns in her tops; but the range was long, the motion was still considerable, and Salthorse, who had placed a chair for himself behind the wreck of the conning tower, was able to keep a good look-out without much exposing himself. Nevertheless before dinner-time one man had been killed, and a second had received a further wound. The enemy’s vessels gained little if anything on the Mary Rose; but by noon they were more together, and the Alger was nearly abreast of the Cécille, and had also begun to fire. Bowling had the chart brought down to him, and having caused an observation to be taken, and having looked at the log, made out that at eight bells the ship was still 960 miles from Malta, and that if all went at the best, she could not get into Valetta Harbour before five or six o’clock on Saturday, May 16th. She had still therefore, or might have, to run for about fifty-four hours before the enemy. He shook his head doubtfully, and having got a bluejacket to bring him his pipe, considered the matter silently, until, at half-past three, Maintruck—who had had a bath and some tea—came on deck again, declaring that he felt quite refreshed and fit for anything.

“Look here, Mr. Maintruck,” said Bowling, “we have before us a fifty hours’ run to Malta. After what we have been doing, our boilers can’t be as good as they were. A hundred slight accidents may occur to temporarily disable us. Tubes may burst or leak, the bearings may heat, a chance shot may damage our helm as the ship lifts; or we may smash a shaft. Even if we have no accidents, how can we expect the engine-room staff to carry on for another fifty hours on end? Flesh and blood can’t stand it. I wonder that I haven’t had reports already of men knocking up. They are sticking to it like Britons down there, but we musn’t forget that they are human beings. Now, what do you think?”

“Perhaps, sir, if the night is dark,” said the first lieutenant, “and if for a few hours we can pile on that extra knot which Mr. Macpherson tells us he has in reserve, we might manage to give the enemy the slip, especially if we steam without lights.”

“That’s the point,” soliloquised Bowling aloud. “First, can we give them the slip? I think not. If we pile on that extra knot, we shall have such a flame dancing from the tops of our funnels that we shall be visible all over the Mediterranean. Secondly, do we want to give them the slip? Again I think not. There are four ships there, it is true, but not one of them is armoured, while we, after our last night’s work especially, may almost be classed as a battleship. The question, then, is: Shall we run, or shall we turn; shall we flee, or shall we fight?”

“I see what you mean, sir,” said Maintruck. “Of course we are now very short-handed, and the men, particularly the stokers, are tired.”

“They will be more tired if we carry on like this for long. No, Maintruck; I think that we will fight. That’s what the people at home would like us to do. Here is what I intend to attempt. Just before it grows dusk I shall crack on that extra knot of Mr. Macpherson’s. This will induce the enemy, who now seem to think that if they can’t catch us they can at least hold on, to crack on steam also. The result will be that in a few hours we shall spread them out in a long tail as they were the first thing this morning. We will carry no lights. Suddenly we will shut off steam, and let the enemy come down right on top of us. They will think that some accident has happened to us. One or two of them will perhaps be venturesome; and then, starting our engines again, we will let them have it. The swell is very much less than it was. We shall make far better shooting than we did last night. What do you think?”

Mr. Maintruck was not the officer to shrink from any action that promised the remotest chance of success; and this project, though a daring one, seemed, upon the whole, to be less risky than the alternative of keeping everybody and everything at the highest possible tension for another fifty hours. “If that is your plan, sir,” he answered, “all I have to say is that I am sure your officers and men will try to carry it through.”

“Then, if you please, send all hands aft that I may explain things to everyone.”

No one who was able to move and who was not detained by duty failed to appear in answer to the call. It was a motley assemblage. Half the men wore bandages, the clothes of all were torn and dirty, all were powder-stained and unkempt; but all were ready for anything; and there was not one who preferred fleeing to fighting when Bowling, from his arm-chair, told them how matters lay. Their general demeanour removed from the captain’s mind any traces of hesitation that may have lingered there. “My men,” he said warmly, when he saw how they received his ideas, “I am proud to command you; and if you do your duty as I believe you will, you will be hereafter as proud as I shall to have sailed in the Mary Rose.”

The events of the previous night had given everyone great confidence in the captain, and after Bowling’s brief address the men clustered together as if debating something which caused them considerable uneasiness. Suddenly a tough old quartermaster stepped forward. “We means no offence, sir, to any of the orficers,” said he bluntly; “and we’ll do our best no matter who commands us, but we begs respectful to arst whether you feels yourself well enough, sir, for this ’ere bit of work, seein’ as if you don’t, and if you think as ’ow you might feel more inclined like to-morrow night, why, sir, we ain’t got no objections to waiting for you. Only we do ’ope, sir, as you’ll command the ship, sir, if so be as it’s conwenient.”

Bowling laughed, and managed to rise. It hurt him to laugh, and it cost him a most painful effort to stand up, but it did him good to have this awkward but honest token of the confidence of the lower deck. “My men,” he said, “I’m not much use, as you may see, but no bones are broken, and while I can stay on deck I shall be the captain of the Mary Rose. You needn’t fear about that.”

The chase continued without much incident all the afternoon, except that the Cosmao, having apparently broken down, abandoned the pursuit, and that shots were exchanged at intervals. The swell almost disappeared, and the shooting consequently became less wild. Indeed, some very fair practice was made with the Mary Rose’s after guns, both the Alger and the Cécille being struck more than once. On the other hand, a shell from the Alger burst in the captain’s cabin of the Mary Rose, and would, had Bowling been present, have infallibly made an end of him.

The gun on the starboard sponson was, as has been noticed, disabled. Bowling, determined, therefore, to fight his port side as much, and his starboard side as little as possible. Just before dusk, as he had intended, he increased speed to the utmost limit, and, as he had expected, this induced the Cécille to forge a little ahead of her consorts. The truth, no doubt, was that all day she had been adapting her speed to theirs, so as to avoid leaving them or being herself unsupported, and that now, with darkness coming on and the Mary Rose drawing away, she was afraid of losing sight of the privateer in the night. Mr. Binnacle, who gave the subject his very careful attention, was of opinion that when the Mary Rose quickened to 18·5 knots the Cécille did the same, and that thus she left her consorts each hour about a knot further behind her in her wake, for they appeared to be incapable of materially increasing speed.

Speed was raised at seven o’clock, and was admirably maintained by Mr. Macpherson and his people. The result was that at eleven o’clock, when about two miles still intervened between the Mary Rose and the Cécille, there was a gap of at least six miles between the Cécille and the Alger, and a further gap of over one mile between the Alger and the Troude.

Bowling, with a rug thrown over him, had since about eight o’clock been dozing in his arm-chair on deck, after leaving word that he was to be roused at one bell. He was not, however, able to secure as much sorely needed rest as he had bargained for. At about ten minutes past eleven the enemy played a wholly unexpected card, which, but for the Mary Rose’s admirable look-out, and the coolness and discipline of the men at the guns, would have inevitably and very summarily decided the game.

The chasing squadron must either have been accompanied by, or have fallen in with and picked up a division of torpedo boats. It is possible that the boats followed the chase all the way from Gibraltar, and that the “tailing off” of the French cruisers may, after all, have been deliberately devised in order to enable the torpedo boats to remain well out of sight in the rear without losing touch of the privateer. On the other hand, the boats may have been scouting independently, and have been accidentally sighted by the French senior officer and then taken under his orders. The point is immaterial, and in all probability it will now never be cleared up. All that is certain and material is that, at a few minutes past eleven, the look-out in the Mary Rose’s mizzen-top reported that three suspicious-looking objects were creeping up ahead of the Cécille, one being nearly under her bows, and the two others betraying a tendency to work round on the Mary Rose’s quarters. Bowling was at once apprised of the discovery, and he caused himself and his chair to be carried up on to the after end of the superstructure at the foot of the mizzen, whence he could not only see the enemy, but could direct the fire of all the after guns, i.e. of the 9·2-in. breech-loading and the four 4·7-in. guns on the poop, of two 6-pounder quick-firing and two Nordenfelts on the upper deck, of the Maxim R.C. machine gun in the mizzen-top, and of two 6-pounder quick-firing guns mounted in his own cabin on the main deck. It was by no means very dark, and, bearing in mind the experience gained in the action off Toulon, Bowling, who speedily saw that a torpedo attack was pending, gave orders that, though the search-lights were to be kept in readiness, they were on no account to be used without special and definite instructions. He also ordered cordite ammunition to be got up for all the quick-firing and machine guns, and no other to be employed. On previous occasions he had used ordinary powder, except for rifle fire; but he realised that in the coming crisis smoke would seriously inconvenience him, and be of no possible counterbalancing advantage.

The boats, as has been said, were first noticed at 11° 10′. The Mary Rose was then doing about 18·3 knots, and the Cécille, though holding her own, was not coming up. After a few minutes of careful observation, Binnacle came to the conclusion that the boats were doing about 20·3, or two knots more than the privateer. There was apparently a distance of about four cables between the centre boat and each of the two flank ones. The centre one kept a course immediately ahead of that of the Cécille. The outer ones were disposed on each of her bows about four points before her beam, and it was tolerably obvious that the tactics of the foe contemplated holding the centre boat in reserve under the dark bows of the Cécille, and utilising her to attack during the confusion which, it was anticipated, would be caused by the simultaneous onslaught of the two other boats, one on each quarter of the Mary Rose.

These tactics, though ingenious, were demonstrably faulty, for it is a cardinal rule that no torpedo attack upon an armed vessel under steam should—especially when the attacking force is weak—be attempted from astern; and the reason for this is simple and obvious.

For the sake of argument, let the armed vessel be steaming at a rate of 10 knots, or 17 ft. a second; and let the attacking boats be steaming at a rate of 18 knots, or 30 ft. a second; and let the “dangerous zone” of fire from the armed vessel be taken to be 2000 yards, and the effective range of the boats’ torpedoes discharged at night at a moving mark at 150 yards. The great object of the attacking boats is, of course, to traverse the “helpless zone”—the zone, that is, in which, although they may be fired at, they cannot effectively discharge their torpedoes—in as brief a period as possible. This zone is 1850 yards broad. If the boats enter it from directly ahead of the armed ship, they traverse it in 1′ 58″; but if they enter it from directly astern, it takes them 7′ 7″ to cross it. Therefore, other things being equal, a boat attacking from ahead has much more than three times as good a chance of escaping unhurt as a boat attacking from astern has. But in addition to this, in the particular case in question, if the boats had passed unseen ahead of the Mary Rose, and had attacked her from ahead, they would probably—even if they had not seriously damaged her—have forced her to turn, and would so have allowed their consorts the cruisers to come up with her. To pass from a position two miles astern of her to one, say, two miles ahead of her, without undergoing risk of being sighted by her, would, it is true, have taken the torpedo boats in this instance a period of three or four hours at least; but, then, the result might easily have been success, instead of failure and disaster.

The non-employment of the search-lights by the Mary Rose left the French ignorant as to whether or not the progress of the attack was observed. Bowling, on the other hand, was able to keep his men perfectly cool and unflurried. He ordered that fire from everything, the 9·2-in. guns only excepted, that would bear, should be opened upon the enemy when he was at a distance of 400 yards, and not before. The port quarter guns were devoted to the boat on the port quarter; the starboard quarter guns to that on the starboard quarter. The Maxim gun was bidden to divide its attentions, and the riflemen were also divided; and, just upon the stroke of midnight, without having previously given forth the least warning of what was intended, the privateer opened. It was short, quick, terrible work. Harried by very little smoke, the men fired as fast as was consistent with the most careful aiming, and the boats, though most gallantly handled, really had no chance. A landsman might have experienced difficulty in seeing the low, dark, ill-defined masses upon the water; but to the trained eyes of men who had followed the sea, the scene was almost as clear as was to be desired; and, even when the boats themselves occasionally showed doubtfully, their white bow-waves sufficiently betrayed them and guided the gunners. All was over in five minutes. Torpedoes may have been discharged; but if so, they did not reach the privateer, or run anywhere near her; and as for the boats, they sank under the awful storm of projectiles that rained upon them. The third one, coming up astern under a great head of steam in the thick of the fight, blew up. Whether her boilers had exploded, or she had been struck by a projectile, can never be known. No one in the Mary Rose received so much as a scratch.

At half-past twelve, determined, if the enemy should still give him a chance of doing so, to carry out his original plan, Bowling ordered Mr. Tompion to see that the poop and forecastle heavy guns, and all the guns that would train over on to the port side, were loaded and once more ready for action. Then he caused himself to be moved to a partially sheltered position near the wreck of the conning tower, whence he could shout down his commands through one of the deck scuttles already mentioned. “When we stop the engines, Mr. Tompion,” he said, “or rather, when we go dead slow—for perhaps it is not wise to have no way on the ship—I shall bring her very gently round to port, so that if the enemy keeps on his course we shall lie right across his bows. If he doesn’t keep on his course, I shall still endeavour to put myself in that position, and to maintain it as long as I safely can. It will at least entice him to attempt to use his ram, though, of course, I don’t intend to let him go as far as that. Now, I want you to have every gun, great and small, concentrated on his bows as he comes up. Have them sighted for five hundred yards, and fire at that distance only. You give the word. I know you won’t estimate the distance very wrongly. I will confine myself to handling the ship, but I must have the first lieutenant close at hand, so that he may take command in an instant, should anything happen to me. Please, therefore, ask Mr. Maintruck to come here, and ask Mr. Tripper to stand by with the underwater torpedoes in case we want them.”

Mr. Maintruck, who had been making the round of the ship, reported everything ready. The men, including many of the wounded, were at their quarters; Day and Salthorse had taken command of their own guns, almost as if they had never been hurt; and there was everywhere an orderly quietness that seemed marvellous in a vessel that had been fitted out and commissioned in so great a hurry. But by this time confidence reigned throughout, and there is nothing so conducive to discipline as well-placed confidence in a ship and in her officers. Both had been tried; neither had been found wanting.

The Cécille, two miles astern, was just visible—a blacker spot than the rest of the darkness. She showed no lights ahead, though doubtless, for the benefit of her consorts, she showed some astern. They were, of course, out of sight.

“Reduce speed to sixty revolutions,” cried Bowling, and added at intervals of a few seconds: “Reduce to forty!” “Reduce to twenty!”

In a minute or so the growing blackness and distinctness of the Cécille indicated that she was rapidly coming up. To assist her, Bowling reversed his engines gently for a short time, and then went ahead again at twenty revolutions and put his helm over. The Frenchman was approaching at the rate of a mile in four minutes. There was not, therefore, much delay. Yet to the men at the guns, and especially to the captains, who had their eyes along the luminous sights, the period seemed an eternity. Suddenly a rocket shot up from the Cécille, followed by another and another.

“That must be her signal that we have broken down, sir,” said Maintruck. “She will slow up now, I suspect.”

“Let her think what she likes,” said Bowling, “so long as she doesn’t think that we have surrendered,” and he looked aloft, where three enormous blue ensigns were fluttering, one from each truck, and one from the forestay, these being in addition to the ensign on the ensign-staff. “I don’t want her to be able to say that she thought that we had given up the game. Gad! she is coming straight down on us.”

“But now she is swerving, sir. She is going to range up on our port hand.”

“Hang it!” cried Bowling, staggering to his feet; “I can’t sit here and fight the ship from an arm-chair. Yes, by Jove! she is going round to port, but she is slowing! Pass the word, there, to go ahead at forty revolutions. I can still bring the ship nearly across her bows.”

But the Cécille turned only slightly. Her captain seemed, on second thoughts, to conclude that he could not take up a more advantageous position than circumstances had prepared for him; and, firing a single shot, which whistled harmlessly between the Mary Rose’s funnels, he held on as before, keeping his head straight for the privateer, but slowing considerably. When he was but eight hundred yards distant he fired again. This time the projectile struck the deck forward, scooped out a great hole, drove up a torrent of splinters, and ricochetted away to the eastward. The enemy was clearly beginning to think that he did not quite know what to make of the situation. Once more he swerved to port, but as he did so, Bowling put the Mary Rose’s helm over to starboard, and so kept his ship still more or less across the cruiser’s bows. A minute later, Tompion, in a voice like the bellow of a bull, gave the word to fire; and three 9·4-in. and four 4·7-in., besides smaller guns, were discharged almost simultaneously, making the ship tremble from stem to stern.

What breeze there was was from the west. The rush of smoke, therefore (for ordinary powder was being used again), floated gently across the privateer’s deck, and, for an instant, blinded everyone. But already Bowling had ordered full speed ahead, and had put his helm still further over to starboard, so that the Mary Rose began to round the cruiser’s bows, and to pass alongside of her, though in the contrary direction.

“It is ticklish work, Maintruck,” said the captain, “and I know it; but I must do it, because we can only fight the port guns.”

“We shall clear her easily,” cried the first lieutenant as the smoke drifted off. “By heavens! What’s the matter, sir? They’re hanging out lights.”

The two vessels were still about five hundred yards distant one from the other, and no one in the Mary Rose could make out very clearly what was going forward in the Cécille, but there was great shouting on board, and lanterns were being waved, and the ship was not firing.

“Mr. Tompion wishes me to say, sir, that he believes the enemy has struck,” said Echo, suddenly appearing and saluting Bowling.

The captain, with a great effort, dragged himself on to the bridge, and gazed for a moment, but not at the Cécille.

“Struck or not struck,” he said to Maintruck, as he staggered down again, “I don’t care. The others are coming up. We have not finished this business yet.” And regaining his chair, into which he sank from sheer weakness, he cried through the scuttle, “That will do! Helm amidships! Full speed!”

The Mary Rose, now heading nearly west, passed the Cécille, on board of which the shouting and waving of lights continued, and quickly sighted the Alger approaching on the port bow, but at a considerable distance. This distance, however, rapidly decreased. “Concentrate your fire again, Mr. Tompion,” shouted Bowling, “and let this one have it, like the other, at five hundred yards.” And he held on, still keeping the enemy about four points on his port bow. The Frenchman evidently intended to do his best to ram, for he came up gallantly, not even firing until he was well within a thousand yards. In this position only two of the Mary Rose’s 9·4-in. and two of her 4·7-in. guns would bear, but at the right distance they were fired, and at the next instant Bowling ported his helm, and so brought his after port guns to bear. They, too, were fired, but they did not stop the Alger, which pluckily began to follow the privateer’s motions and to circle in pursuit of her, firing furiously at the same time. The work was getting warm. Men flung up their arms and fell forward on their faces. Splinters flew. Two shells, in rapid succession, burst below. Maintruck staggered sideways, and collapsed under the break of the poop.

“Stand by to fire the stern torpedo,” shouted Bowling hoarsely. “Full speed astern starboard engine! Full speed ahead port engine!”

This order and “Port helm!” brought the ship round so rapidly that the Alger, turning less quickly, passed under the privateer’s stern. The distance was barely two cables, when Bowling, seeing the enemy’s broadside fully exposed, gave the word. Fifteen seconds later the Whitehead struck its mark, and as Bowling heard the explosion he sank senseless on deck.