The order was obeyed, the wind filled the sails, and the two ships, with their flags fluttering in the breeze, rapidly approached each other.
On arriving within a certain distance, both turned suddenly. The Swallow fired first, sixty guns thundering at the same instant. The Royal Fortune reserving her fire, did not lose a single sail, and only three of her men fell.
"Up and at them!" shouted Barthelemy, "the advantage is ours"; and as he spoke his forty guns returned the volley of the Swallow, which rocked heavily under the shock.
Just at that moment the report of a pistol echoed from the Swallow's deck and Barthelemy sank lifeless on a cannon. The bullet had pierced his heart.
The man at the helm, Stephenson, saw him fall and, not perceiving the wound, shouted:
"Don't lie down, captain, but look the danger boldly in the face and fight as beseems a man."
Even as he spoke a jet of blood gushed from Barthelemy's breast.
Stephenson, seeing it, leaped from his post in despair, leaving his place at the helm, and throwing himself on Barthelemy's body shouted, sobbing aloud: "He is dead!"
The cry fairly paralyzed the pirates just at the critical moment; nameless terror filled their hearts, and all rushed to their captain's corpse.
Moody thrust them aside right and left till he reached the body, and hastily seizing it, he threw it over the bulwark into the sea.