Satisfied, from the surgeon’s report, that the wound was not mortal, the commander for the time threw all his energies and skill into action. The two vessels now remained on board each other for rather more than half-an-hour, when the Virginie began to forereach. In a moment Lieutenant Thornton brought the second aftermost gun to bear, and its discharge cut away the head rails of the French frigate, and, what was far more important, the gammoning of the bowsprit. The Virginie also, as she forged ahead, brought her guns to bear, and a desperate cannonade recommenced between the two—yard-arm to yard-arm. So well practised were the crew of the Onyx that they fired as quick again as the Virginie, whose hull was desperately shattered, her main topmast gone, and her fore-mast tottering, and in this condition she passed on out of gun-shot.
During this respite Lieutenant Thornton and the third lieutenant of the Onyx, a Mr. Barker, a high-spirited young officer, who felt no pique whatever at his ship being worked by a senior officer, though of another ship, set to to repair damages. The hull of the Onyx was but little damaged, but her rigging and sails were so cut to pieces, that for a time she remained unmanageable. She had also lost her main topsail yard, and her gaff was shot away, as well as her colours. She had, however, lashed a boat’s ensign to the larboard, and a Union Jack to the starboard arm of her cross-jack yard. Our hero anxiously glanced around to see what had become of the Vengeance and the Etoile. The chasse-mare, the Ca-Ira, was out of sight. The Vengeance, he perceived, was, with a jury-mast and a double-reefed lug, making way before the wind, shaping her course for England. The Etoile he could distinguish in shore, with two small luggers and boats towing her towards Havre to save her from capture. The Etoile troubled him but little, and the Ca-Ira he made no doubt would make the coast of England, and land her passengers. There was but little time for thought, for both ships were rapidly repairing damages to resume their deadly contest—the Virginians furious at being baffled, and so desperately riddled and cut up by so inferior an antagonist; whilst the crew of the Onyx were enthusiastic, having full confidence in their young commander, rejoicing at the same time that their captain was not so dangerously wounded as was at first thought.
Lieutenant Thornton, after visiting O’Loughlin and Charles Pole—the latter almost insisting in rising to help, but falling back on making the attempt—returned to his post. Julian Arden was full of spirit and capable of filling an officer’s berth for the time. There was glory to be obtained in thus baffling a frigate of a thousand and nineteen tons; whereas the Onyx was scarcely eight hundred, and though a large class corvette, was but a very small frigate. Her crew, when complete, only mustered two hundred men, whereas the Virginie then amounted to three hundred. The Virginie, it appeared afterwards, carried only twenty-eight guns, the Onyx twenty-one, but her reduced crew amounted to only one hundred and sixty, which, with eighteen fresh hands that came on board with our hero, made her complement one hundred and seventy-eight.
Both ships, when they separated, presented a very shattered and woeful appearance; this was caused by the great quantity of sail under which they had engaged. Shattered spars, torn and riddled sails, ropes and ends were hanging in every direction.
Whilst refitting the breeze increased, and as the crew of the Onyx were regarding their opponents, they beheld, to their great satisfaction, their fore-mast fall over the side, from the increased motion of the sea. It was then two hours after noon, but such had been the diligence of the Onyx’s crew, that she was enabled, with the increasing breeze, to make sail on the larboard tack towards the Virginie. Just as she opened fire her antagonist hauled down her colours and surrendered; in fact, from the fall of her fore-mast she was in a perfectly defenceless state.
Whilst the Onyx’s officers and crew are rejoicing over their victory—dearly bought, it is true—we will follow the movements of the chasse-mare Ca-Ira, previous to, and after her escape out of, Havre.
CHAPTER XLI.
On casting anchor before the little village of Eure, some five leagues from Havre, Madame Coulancourt became intensely anxious about her son, but from this anxiety she was quickly relieved, as our readers already know.
As soon as the tide turned, the chasse-mare again weighed anchor, under a very light wind and a thick mist. This latter circumstance greatly pleased the captain of the Ca-Ira, as it would enable him to drop down the river without attracting observation. Knowing every yard of the navigation, he continued safely descending with the tide, keeping well the western shore. The smuggler was one of the largest vessels of that class out of the port of Havre, and was notorious for the many successful trips she had made in the contraband trade. Captain Bonafoux was a rough, though a good kind of man in his way—faithful and steadfast to any bargain or contract in which he engaged.