We both followed; but before we were on deck, three or four more shots passed between the masts. "If you please, sir," said the master's mate in charge of the deck, whose name was O'Farrel, "the battery has opened upon us." "Thank you very much for your information, Mr O'Farrel," replied O'Brien; "but the French have _reported_ it before you. May I ask if you've any particular fancy to be made a target of, or if you think that His Majesty's brig _Rattlesnake_ was sent here to be riddled for nothing at all? Starboard the helm, quarter-master." The helm was put up, and the brig was soon run out of the fire; not, however, until a few more shot were pitched close to us; and one carried away the fore-topmast backstay. "No, Mr O'Farrel," replied O'Brien, "I only wish to point out to you, that I trust neither I nor any one in this ship cares a fig about the whizzing of a shot or two about our ears, when there is anything to be gained for it, either for ourselves or for our country; but I do care a great deal about losing even the leg, or the arm, much more the life of any of my men, when there's no occasion for it; so in future, recollect it's no disgrace to keep out of the way of a battery, when all the advantage is on their side I've always observed that chance shots pick out the best men. Lower down the mainsail and send the sailmaker aft to repair it." When O'Brien returned to the cabin, I remained on deck, for it was my afternoon watch; and although O'Farrel had permission to look out for me, I did not choose to go down again. The bay of Fort Royal was now opened, and the view was extremely beautiful. Swinburne was still on the carronade, and as I knew he had been there before, I applied to him for information as to the _locale_. He told me the names of the batteries above the town, pointed out Fort Edward, and Negro Point, and particularly Pigeon Island, the battery at the top of which wore the appearance of a mural crown. "It's well I remember that place, Mr Simple," said he. "It was in '94 when I was last here. The sodgers had 'sieged it for a whole month, and were about to give it up, 'cause they couldn't get a gun up on that 'ere hill you sees there. So poor Captain Faulkner says, `There's many a clear head under a tarpaulin hat, and I'll give any chap five doubloons that will hitch up a twenty-four pounder to the top of that hill.' Not quite so easy a matter, as you may perceive from here, Mr Simple." "It certainly appears to me to have been almost impossible, Swinburne," replied I.