The words were hardly out of his mouth when his voice was silenced for ever. With one prodigious heave of his whole physical force, Israel smote him over the taffrail into the sea, as if the man had fallen backwards over a teetering chair. By this time the two officers were hurrying aft. Ere meeting them midway, Israel, quick as lightning, cast off the two principal halyards, thus letting the large sails all in a tumble of canvass to the deck. Next moment one of the officers was at the helm, to prevent the cutter from capsizing by being without a steersman in such an emergency. The other officer and Israel interlocked. The battle was in the midst of the chaos of blowing canvass. Caught in a rent of the sail, the officer slipped and fell near the sharp iron edge of the hatchway. As he fell he caught Israel by the most terrible part in which mortality can be grappled. Insane with pain, Israel dashed his adversary’s skull against the sharp iron. The officer’s hold relaxed, but himself stiffened. Israel made for the helmsman, who as yet knew not the issue of the late tussle. He caught him round the loins, bedding his fingers like grisly claws into his flesh, and hugging him to his heart. The man’s ghost, caught like a broken cork in a gurgling bottle’s neck, gasped with the embrace. Loosening him suddenly, Israel hurled him from him against the bulwarks. That instant another report was heard, followed by the savage hail—“You down sail at last, do ye? I’m a good mind to sink ye for your scurvy trick. Pull down that dirty rag there, astern!”

With a loud huzza, Israel hauled down the flag with one hand, while with the other he helped the now slowly gliding craft from falling off before the wind.

In a few moments a boat was alongside. As its commander stepped to the deck he stumbled against the body of the first officer, which, owing to the sudden slant of the cutter in coming to the wind, had rolled against the side near the gangway. As he came aft he heard the moan of the other officer, where he lay under the mizzen shrouds.

“What is all this?” demanded the stranger of Israel.

“It means that I am a Yankee impressed into the king’s service, and for their pains I have taken the cutter.”

Giving vent to his surprise, the officer looked narrowly at the body by the shrouds, and said, “This man is as good as dead, but we will take him to Captain Paul as a witness in your behalf.”

“Captain Paul?—Paul Jones?” cried Israel.

“The same.”

“I thought so. I thought that was his voice hailing. It was Captain Paul’s voice that somehow put me up to this deed.”

“Captain Paul is the devil for putting men up to be tigers. But where are the rest of the crew?”