Even when going into action a British seaman often indulges in jokes, but on this occasion every man maintained a grim silence.
“Now, lads!” shouted the commander, “give it them!”
At the short distance the enemy now was from them the broadside told with terrible effect, the shot crashing through her ports and sides, while the shrieks and groans of the wounded were clearly distinguished from the Lily’s deck.
The British crew, working with redoubled energy, hauled their guns in and out, and fired with wonderful rapidity, truly tossing them about as if they had been playthings. The French also fired, but far more slowly, sending hardly one shot to the Lily’s two. The officers went about the deck encouraging the men and laying hold of the tackles to assist them in their labours. At any moment a well-directed broadside from the frigate might leave the corvette a mere wreck on the ocean, or send her to the bottom. Every man on board knew this; but while their officers kept their flag flying at the peak, they were ready to work their guns and struggle to the last.
An hour and a half had passed since the French frigate had opened her fire, and still the little sloop held out. Commander Saltwell’s great object was to avoid being run down or boarded. This he managed to do by skilful manoeuvring. At length Rayner, through his glass, observed the crew of the frigate running about her deck as if in considerable confusion. Once more the Lily fired, but what was the astonishment of the British seamen to see her haul her main-tack aboard and begin to make all sail, putting her head to the northward. To follow was impossible, as the Lily had every brace and bowline, all her after backstays, several of her lower shrouds, and other parts of her rigging, shot away.
Her sails were also torn, her mainmast and main-topsail yard and foreyard a good deal injured. Yet though she had received these serious damages aloft, strange to say one man alone of her crew had been slightly injured.
“We must repair damages, lads, and then go and look after the enemy,” cried the commander.
The guns being run in and secured, every officer, man, and boy set to work, the commander with the rest. In a wonderfully short time the standing rigging was knotted or spliced, fresh running rigging rove, new sails bent, and the Lily was standing in the direction in which her late antagonist had some time before disappeared.
Not long after, however, the man at the mast-head discovered a large ship on the lee beam in the direction of Guadaloupe. The Lily at once steered towards the stranger, when in the afternoon she came up with a vessel under French colours, which endeavoured to escape. Several shots were fired. The stranger sailed on.
“She looks like an English ship,” observed the commander. “It will never do to let her get away. See what you can do, Crofton.”