Fort Marabout mounted three 9-inch Armstrongs, firing 250-lb. shells; one 7-inch Armstrong, firing 115-lb. shells; eight 10-inch muzzle-loaders, firing 84-lb. hollow shot, or 100-lb. solid shot; seventeen 32-pounders, smooth-bores; and seven mortars, two firing 13-inch shells and five 11-inch mortars. There were also in this fort--whether mounted or not was unknown--two 10-inch Armstrongs, firing 400-lb. shells; two more 9-inch Armstrongs, and one 7-inch. Against that the little _Condor_ set out to match herself, with one 7-inch gun, firing 12-lb. shells, and two 64-pounders, three 7-pounders, and one or two Gatlings. As has been said also, the little sloop had not an inch of armour on her sides or deck:--boilers, engines, magazines, all were open to the lightest of the enemy's shot. All the same they steamed off towards the grey ramparts of the big fort without a moment of doubt or hesitation. Mr. Villiers carries on the story. 'The _Condor_ steamed ahead. Our men stripped off their jackets. The decks were sanded, and the racers, or rails, on which the guns run were oiled. 'As we neared Fort Marabout, its terraces and embrasures bristling with Armstrong guns, not a man aboard but knew the peril of our audacity,--for a little gun-boat, one of the smallest in Her Majesty's service, to dare to attack the second most powerful fortress in Alexandria,--but the shout of enthusiasm from the crew when the order was given to "open fire!" readily showed their confidence in their beloved leader. The guns, run out "all a-port," blazed away. The smoke hung heavily about the decks. The flash of the cannonade lit up for a moment the faces of the men, already begrimed with powder, and steaming with exertion, for the morning was hot and sultry. The captain from the bridge, glass in hand, watching anxiously the aim of her gunners, would shout from time to time: "What was that, my men?" 'Sixteen hundred yards. Sir!' "Then give them eighteen this time, and drop it in." "Aye, aye, Sir!" 'Then a shout from the men on the main-mast told us on deck that the shot had made its mark. The little ship quaked again with the blast of her guns. The men were now almost black with powder, and continually dipped their heads in the sponge buckets to keep the grit from their eyes. One of our shots had fallen well within the enemy's works; another had taken a yard of scarp off--for a slight breeze had lifted the fog of smoke, and all on board could plainly see the enemy working in their embrasures. The Arab gunners now trained one of their Armstrongs in our direction. Our engine-bell sounded, and the _Condor_ at once steamed ahead. A puff of smoke from the fort, a dull boom, a rush of shell through the air, and a jet of water shot up far astern, followed by a shout from our men. The enemy had missed us. When the Arabs reloaded and brought to bear, the _Condor_ steamed back again, and the shell whistled across her bows. [Illustration: _Photo, London Stereoscopic Co._