Inch by inch they were driven back, pistolled or cut down or thrust overboard, till there remained but one Moslem, a tall, wiry villain, armed with pistol and scimitar. Two of our men went down before him, one having his skull cloven by a lightning sweep of the corsair’s razorlike blade, the other having his sword arm cut completely through at the wrist. Two more rushed at him; one he shot, the second received the discharged pistol full in the face. With that several men made ready to shoot him down; but our lieutenant called on them to desist, and he himself advanced on the redoubtable Moslem. The combat was watched with breathless interest, for Geoffrey Weaver was a past master in the art of fencing, having acquired both the French and Italian methods, as well as having seen active service against Spaniards and Turks, and also in the Low Countries. In a measure he had an advantage, wearing his breastplate; yet as the scimitar is rarely used save for cutting, the armour did not serve him as readily as it would have done if he had been pitted against a man armed with a pointed sword. Their blades met, and so quick was the swordplay that none could follow it. In a few seconds both were wounded, the blood trickling down the lieutenant’s face from a nick on the forehead. Then, quicker than words, Weaver escaped a sweeping blow from the scimitar by jumping nimbly backwards, and the next moment his blade had passed through the Moslem’s shoulder. With this, thinking the fight at an end, we began to cheer lustily; but our triumph was shortlived, for, ere the lieutenant could disengage his weapon, the corsair seized him round the waist and sprang with him into the sea. We rushed to the side, but only a few bubbles came to the surface. Carried down by the weight of his armour, Weaver sank like a stone, and his implacable foe, holding on with a relentless grip, shared his fate. However, there was no time for vain regrets, and all hands were set to work to repair the damage done by the fight. Our losses were heavy: besides the lieutenant, two midshipmen, the bos’n, and sixteen men were killed, and the purser and thirty-three men wounded. On the Algerine all her crew were accounted for, not one surviving; while, in spite of our care, the losses amongst the galley slaves were fearful. A few stray shots and a shower of splinters had wrought destruction on these helpless chained-up wretches, and the gratitude of the survivors when we knocked their fetters off was touching to witness. There were Spaniards, Genoese, Venetians, French, and Dutch, negroes, and one Englishman, a man from Hull--twenty-three all told, most of whom were wounded. The prize was badly shattered, but little damage was done near the waterline. The _Gannet_ suffered hardly at all, the corsairs, being unprepared for resistance, having neglected to use their two pieces of brass ordnance.