But Captain Reid was watching the movements of the enemy. He ordered his men to pause in their labors, and stand ready to give their visitors a warm reception. When the boats arrived within speaking distance, he hailed, but received no answer; the boats pulled on in gloomy silence. He hailed again, but there was no reply, but the men redoubled their efforts at the oars. Captain Reid, aware there was no time to be lost, hailed a third time, ordering the boats to keep off, or he would fire into them. The boats kept on. The word was given to "FIRE," and a volley of musketry was poured into the densely crowded boats, causing great confusion and killing and wounding a large number of the crews. The fire, however, was returned by the British, and the first lieutenant of the privateer was severely wounded and one man was killed. After a sharp, but severe contest, in which the enemy made desperate attempts to get alongside, the boats hauled off and returned to their respective ships. Captain Reid knew this was only the beginning of the drama. He encouraged his men, and got in readiness for a more serious engagement. He moored his vessel close to the shore, loaded his large guns to the muzzle with grape and canister, and every musket with bullets and buckshot. His men were all on deck ready and eager to meet the foe. The moon had risen, and lighted up the bay, so that objects could be distinctly seen at a considerable distance. And soon after midnight, twelve boats, carrying nearly four hundred men, and armed with carronades, swivels, and blunderbusses, as well as muskets, pistols, and cutlasses, left the squadron and pulled directly for the privateer. The crisis was at hand, and although the brave commander of the privateer knew that his vessel must eventually fall into the hands of his unscrupulous enemy, he determined to defend her to the last.