All these orders were executed with magical celerity: the two ships were as securely lashed together as if by iron chains--the two carronades which had not been fired during the combat, thundered in there turn, and swept the enemy’s deck with a cloud of grape shot, and then another cry was heard, uttered by the same stentorian voice-- “Now, board her!!!” And, adding example to precept, the captain of the _Indienne_ threw aside his speaking trumpet, now of no longer use, placed his helmet on his head, fastening the clasp beneath his chin; placed the sabre which he usually wore in his belt between his teeth, and rushed upon the bowsprit to jump thence upon the deck of the enemy. Although this movement followed the order he had given with as great rapidity as the thunder succeeds the lightning, he was only the second upon the English deck: he was preceded by the young prisoner with whom he had conversed, who had thrown aside his coat, and armed only with a hatchet, was the first to encounter death or victory. “You are not conversant with the discipline of my ship,” said Paul, laughing; “it is my place to be the first to board a ship I am attacking. I forgive you this time, but take care it does not again happen.” At the same instant, the seamen of the _Indienne_ rushed from their own ship to the enemy’s, taking advantage of every point of contact, some from the bowsprit, others from the end of the yards, and nettings, and fell upon the deck like ripe fruit falling from a tree when shaken by the wind. Then the English, who had retreated to their forecastle, unmasked a carronade which they had had time to turn upon their enemy. A volley of fire and iron was vomited forth on the assailants. One fourth of the crew of the _Indienne_ fell killed or mutilated on the enemy’s deck, in the midst of cries and maledictions. But above the cries and blasphemous oaths, a voice resounded, crying: “Forward--all of you!”