They were within seventy yards of the Vengeance when she opened fire from an eight-pounder, crammed to the muzzle with grape. The water round the launch was lashed into foam, and the spray flew over the men; but, as often happens, strange to say, in attacks of the same kind, not a man was hit.
“Now, Bill, give them an answer,” said our hero; and then followed the loud boom of the launch’s twelve-pounder, as it poured its deadly contents over the decks of the Vengeance, and the next instant they were alongside, and Lieutenant Thornton, cutlass in hand, sprang upon her deck, followed by his brave crew; though a desperate volley of musketry was fired full in their faces, killing one man and wounding three.
“Force them overboard, my lads,” shouted our hero, as he drove the Frenchmen before him, and saved young Burdett, as he scrambled over the bulwarks, from being annihilated by the butt end of a musket. There were full thirty men on board the Vengeance, and Captain Pierre Gaudet, foaming at the mouth, and furious with passion, was urging them to a furious resistance. Just then Lieutenant Joyce boarded the Vengeance on her larboard quarter, taking the enraged Frenchman in the rear. Lieutenant Thornton, wishing to spare Pierre Gaudet’s life, burst through all opposition, and, singling him out, disarmed him, and catching him by the collar, dragged him to the side.
“Curse you! I know you,” shouted Pierre Gaudet, striving to draw out a knife. “Set her on fire, drag out the plugs!” he roared amid the din, but Lieutenant Thornton tumbled him over the bulwarks. Desperately he clung to anything he could catch hold of.
“I wish to save your life, villain!” exclaimed our hero, “though you do not deserve any clemency;” and, dragging Gaudet from his last hold, he threw him into the launch, and called to the men to surrender. There were five dead upon the deck, and several wounded. Bill was driving all before him with a handspike, having broken his cutlass. Several of the crew of the privateer threw themselves overboard, others surrendered, but a few desperate hands rushed below and fired the fore-cabin, which was, however, extinguished instantly, and preparations were then made for casting her loose, when it was discovered that she was chained to the shore, and the massive chain on board was riveted to a huge bolt.
“Now, Mr. Joyce, be ready,” said our hero, “to set sail the moment I hail you; I will go ashore and cast off this chain,” and he leaped into the launch, followed by Bill and some half dozen of the men. Just then Captain O’Loughlin rowed up alongside, having previously sent the brig out with half-a-dozen hands in her.
Whilst Lieutenant Thornton was pulling towards the shore, Pierre Gaudet threw himself into the water, swam to the shore, or on board one of the fishing luggers near.
As the party in the launch pulled towards the beach they were assailed by a discharge of musketry from a large number of men drawn up on the shore.
“Now, Bill, give them a dose, and disperse them.”
“Ay, ay, sir, I’ll physic them,” and bang went the twelve-pounder, loaded with grape, and well-directed, at the body of men drawn up under the rocks, and dispersing them in double quick time, leaving three of their number dead upon the beach.