Meanwhile the _Mountjoy_ and the _Phoenix_ were coming close upon the boom, and the forts on either side were plying them with shot. Douglas never moved. One of the seamen was struck down beside him, but he never turned his head. The wind was coming in little airs, but the tide was running hard. Gervase saw the _Mountjoy_ through the smoke, a cable´s length ahead, suddenly strike upon the wooden barrier that lay across the river. Then the gallant little vessel swung round and grounded in the narrow channel. A great cheer went up from the banks, while they saw the redcoats hastening to their boats to board the stranded ship. “Now, McKeller, see what you can do with the long gun,” cried Douglas, as the mate with Gervase´s assistance brought the cannonade to bear on the mass of men who were moving to the bank. But the master of the _Mountjoy_ was a stout seaman and knew his work. Quickly his guns were brought to the landward side, and at the discharge the little vessel slipped into the channel again, and went floating toward the boom with the running tide. Meanwhile the _Swallow_´s long boat under the boatswain´s mate had been laid alongside the barrier, and the bluejackets were plying it with cutlasses and hatchets. Every man did his best that hour, and as the _Mountjoy_ struck the boom a second time, the great barrier cracked and broke and went swinging up the river. McKeller leapt upon the bulwarks regardless of the risk he ran, and waved his hat with fine enthusiasm: “God save Their Majesties,” he cried, “and down with Popery.” Every man on board knew that the work was done and the city was saved. But the wind had fallen with the afternoon and it was a dead calm. Only with the tide the vessels came slowly up the river; then the long boats of the _Swallow_ took them in tow, and with the setting sun the vessels came drifting into Ross´s bay. It was ten o´clock at night when the _Phoenix_, Andrew Douglas, Master (and a proud man was he!), came to its moorings at the little quay close by Ship Quay Gate. * * * * * No man has such gift of speech as to describe the scene when the master stepped ashore and raised his hat in presence of the thronging crowd. Men and women went frantic in their joy. Falling upon each other´s necks and wringing one another by the hand, they forgot that stern reserve that marks their race and people. Bonfires were lighted upon the ramparts, and the bells rang out a joyous peal, and all the while the unlading of the ship went on, till all men were satisfied, and the terror of the morning seemed like a dream that had passed away.