Two officers were killed, and several badly wounded. Some honour and a good supply of prize money was the chief result of the affair.
Some time after this, on her passage home, the Flora fell in with an enemy. She gave chase and was not long in coming up with her, when it was discovered that her opponent was of far greater size, and had heavier metal, and many more men. Did this disconcert her officers and crew? Far from it. With even greater than their usual alacrity they went to their guns.
“What care we though the odds are against us! More is the glory to be gained,” was the general remark.
They ranged up alongside the enemy. Their cool and well-directed fire carried away her foremast. Then they passed ahead of her, and she flying up into the wind they raked her with terrific effect. Still she was not idle, and many of their crew were struck down to rise no more. Jack got a severe wound in the leg. He bound his handkerchief round it.
“Never mind,” he sung out; “we must take the enemy, and then think about our hurts.”
He repeated but the sentiments of his gallant captain, who, twice wounded, fought on till a shot brought him a third time to the deck.
“See, see, we have not fought in vain,” he shouted, as at the same moment the enemy’s colours were struck. The victory was won, though hardly won, and at length the Flora and her prize entered Plymouth Sound. The war was over, the last shot had been fired, peace, a truly glorious peace, was proclaimed. His ship was paid off, and Jack found himself, for the first time in his life, free and on shore.