Rapidly and steadily our daring leader gave his orders to execute this manœuvre, but the smoke had settled down so thick around us, shrouding the moon almost entirely from sight, that we could only now and then catch a glimpse of the approaching enemy, and miscalculating our distance, instead of meeting her as we had expected, we were run into by the frigate, her bowsprit crashing over our high towerlike poop. “Parker,” said Paul Jones, quickly, “get some lashings and help me to fasten her head-gear to the mizzen mast. That’s it—we have her now.” “Aye, and the frigate feels the strain already,” said I, as we finished our hasty work; “see how she swings around by our side—something has given way on board of her, by that crash.”[1] “You’re right, but lash fast yonder anchor that’s hooked in our quarter—we’ll not let them escape now—but yonder come their fellows as if to board us. Boarders ahoy! beat back the villains,” and springing from my side, our ever ready leader, himself led the party to repulse the foe. I followed. Dark masses of seamen, clustered on the sides of the frigate, were endeavoring to effect an entrance on our deck; thrusting with their long pikes, cutting and slashing with their cutlasses, and cheering each other on to the attack, with shouts and imprecations. For an instant, our crew, fearfully outnumbered, seemed to waver; but at this moment Paul Jones leaped into the midst of the fray, and, with one stroke of his weapon bringing a foe to the deck, shouted, “Down with the miscreants—strike home one and all—bravely my lads,” and accompanying each word with a blow, he cleared a space before him in less time than I have taken to narrate the event. For an instant the enemy faltered, but a huge boatswain the next moment rallied them, and aiming a pistol at Paul Jones, the fellow shouted, “Hurl the pirates to perdition—come on, hearts of oak—” I was luckily by, and as the villain spoke, I struck up his arm, and his ball glanced harmlessly over the Commodore’s head. The boatswain did not live to take vengeance on me for my interposition—he did not even survive to finish his sentence; for scarcely had the words left his mouth, before Paul Jones drove his boarding pike deep into the Englishman’s heart. There was a dull gurgling sound, as he fell back without a groan, dropped heavily to the water, and sank like lead. His companions were aghast, and struck with a sudden panic, retreated. The next moment not one was left attempting to board. During the last few minutes, my attention had been so occupied by the sharp conflict, in which I was personally engaged with the boarders, that I had lost sight altogether of the general battle; and I now cast a hurried glance around to see what other advantages, if any, we had gained over the enemy.