The ship was the General Monk, a brig of two hundred tons, commanded by Lieutenant Churchill of His Majesty’s service. She carried sixteen long nine-pounders and two long twelve-pounders for stern and bow chasers, with a full complement of eighty men. When the privateer’s crew boarded the General Monk, the decks were literally strewn with dead and wounded, and the scuppers were running blood. The grape at short range had killed fifteen and wounded twenty more, among whom was Lieutenant Churchill. All the shrouds of the foremast, and the head-sails were shot away. The foremast and bowsprit were cut one-quarter through. The halyards and standing rigging were shot adrift, and the running-gear was cut to pieces. The Holker had lost the first lieutenant and six men killed, while ten were wounded, and much injury had been done to the sails and gear. A prize crew of fifteen were put aboard the General Monk, and ordered back to Philadelphia, taking the prisoners and valuable stores found aboard. The Holker had left, forty men effective for service, and needed her rigging overhauled before making for the Long Island rendezvous given by Barclugh. So Captain Risk thought best to put into Egg Harbor for a short time to repair his rigging and get into ship-shape for the run over to Long Island. There seems to be a strange fatality among ships as well as among men. In the height of success is the period of gravest fear of the unexpected to occur. The prize crew on the General Monk were busy setting up and splicing rigging and fishing the spars as the prisoners were put below when daylight stole upon the scene. The sound of the guns had borne down on the other ship of the blockade. The crew of the Holker were tricing up stays and shrouds in order to keep the Holker’s sticks from rolling out of her, when about four miles, dead astern, loomed up a heavy frigate under a cloud of canvas, making for the scene of action. Captain Risk had to be served now by his wits rather than by his guns, for, if he took to his heels, the prize would be left to the mercy of the frigate. Risk mounted his shrouds, trumpet in hand, and signalled his prize to run before him on a course opposite to the Holker’s while he ordered deliberately, in notes clear and strong: “Ready, about! “Mainsail haul! “Raise tacks and sheets! “Helm’s a-lee! “’Vast bracing!” The doughty little captain brought his ship over on the starboard tack, and stood into the wind to draw off the stranger and try his speed. Captain Risk now had his gear well cleared up and the shrouds well set up to stand a run before the ten-knot breeze. With sprightly bounds the crew of the Holker obeyed the commands: “Stand by main and fore-tacks! “Let her pay off! “Man her weather braces! “Haul!” As she sheered off, the ship now staggered before the wind sooner than the Englishman could realize the tactics of the brig.