Naturally, Captain Vavassour was not the sort of man to see a possible rich prize riding at anchor in the enemy's waters without making a determined attempt to secure possession of her; we therefore stood boldly in after the Indiaman until we arrived within half a mile of the entrance of the bay--at that point about two miles across--when two batteries of six guns each, built upon opposite headlands forming the entrance to the bay, opened fire upon us, and with such effect that within five minutes we had been hulled seven times, and had lost two men killed and five wounded. This afforded the skipper all the information that he just then required, namely, the fact that batteries existed, and also the exact position and strength of them--it now appearing that they were armed with 32-pounders. We therefore hove about and got out of range again as quickly as possible; for, as the Captain said, it was no good returning the fire of earthwork batteries; we might have plumped into them every shot we had on board without doing them a farthing's-worth of damage, while, had we attempted to force a passage into the bay with the frigate, they might easily have sunk us. But the fun was not yet over; as a matter of fact it had really not begun--the affair of the batteries was merely the overture of the little drama which was taking shape in the skipper's brain. We stretched off the land until we were about three miles distant from the mouth of the bay, and then the ship was hove-to and preparation was made for the dispatch of a cutting-out expedition; that is to say, an attack upon the Indiaman by the frigate's boats, with the object of overpowering her prize-crew, cutting her cables, and bringing her out of the harbour.