On the “Guerriere” things were going badly. Captain Dacres had been shot in the back by one of the American marines, but he pluckily remained on deck. As the “Constitution” got clear again, both the mainmast and foremast of the “Guerriere,” which had been repeatedly cut by American shot, went over with a crash, and she lay on the wave completely helpless. This was less than half an hour after the “Constitution” sent in her terrible broadside. The American ship drew off to a short distance to repair her damages, and in less than an hour returned, and sent Lieutenant Read in a cutter to discover if Captain Dacres had surrendered. Dacres’s humiliation was complete, and he felt that further battle would only be the butchery of his own brave fellows. Lieutenant Read hailed him to learn if he had surrendered. “I don’t know that it would be prudent to continue the engagement any longer.” “Do I understand you to say that you have struck?” asked Read. “Not precisely; but I don’t know that it would be worth while to fight any longer.” “If you cannot decide,” said the American, “I will return aboard my ship and resume the engagement.” Dacres here called out hurriedly,-- “I am pretty much _hors de combat_ already. I have hardly men enough to work a single gun and my ship is in a sinking condition.” “I wish to know, sir,” demanded Read peremptorily, “whether I am to consider you as a prisoner of war or as an enemy. I have no time for further parley.” Dacres paused, and then said, brokenly, “I believe now there is no alternative. If I could fight longer I would with pleasure, but I--I must surrender.” When Dacres went up the side of the “Constitution” to surrender his sword he was treated in the manner befitting his rank by a generous enemy. Captain Hull assisted him to the deck, saying, anxiously,-- “Dacres, give me your hand; I know you are hurt.” And when the Englishman extended his sword, hilt forward, in formal surrender, Hull said, magnanimously,-- “No, no; I will not have the sword of a man who knows so well how to use it. But”--and his eyes twinkled merrily--“but I’ll thank you for that hat.” He had not forgotten the wager, if Dacres had. The transferring of prisoners was at once begun, for it was seen that the “Guerriere” was a hopeless hulk, not fit to take to port. When this was all completed and every article of value taken from her, she was blown up, and the “Constitution” sailed for Boston.