"And the other to the north of her?" "I'd know her anywhere." "Well?" "She's all right. As tight a little boat as ever sailed. The _Lively Bee_, privateer." "We shall have friends, then." "Ay, ay, sir. Cap'n Vernon is as stanch as his boat, an' that's sayin' a lot." "Beat to quarters." How willingly the men obeyed! How quickly each man was at his post! The surgeon in the cockpit got his instruments and bandages ready, the powder-monkeys were in line, the middies strutted about every bit as proud as peacocks, and all the officers waited for the action to commence. The first gun fired was from the American ship. The ships were rolling in a manner fatal to good aim. Half an hour was devoted to throwing away good ammunition, for no other object was gained. A terrific shout went up from the Yankees as they saw that the Englishman's mizzen topmast was shot away. Captain Carden soon saw that his men could not cope with the Americans at such long range, so, with that bulldog courage which Britishers possess, he disdained all maneuvering and bore straight down on the enemy. Both began to fire broadsides, and the firing from the American was so rapid that the _Macedonian's_ crew shouted: "She's on fire! Hurrah for England and her hearts of oak!" But they had shouted too soon. A well-aimed shot cut away the mizzenmast, which fell alongside, suspended by the cordage. "Hurrah, Jack Creamer!" shouted a captain of a gun to the lad, whose face was as black as the ace of spades, from the powder and smoke. "Huzza, cap'n!" responded Jack. "You've made a brig of her." Captain Decatur heard the boy's remark and added cheerily: "Ay, ay, my lad! Now let the next shot make a sloop of her." Decatur was everywhere. His activity was almost marvelous. It seemed almost impossible that one man could accomplish so much and continue to be so cheerful. "Ay, I guess it would do her good," he said, as he saw a gunner look along his gun. "Did you speak to me, cap'n?" "If you like; I saw you point your gun at the yellow streak. Aim just there, let us hull her." The order was passed along the gun deck, and each gunner strove to see that his gun did the most damage. The great missiles tore cruel holes in the _Macedonian's_ wooden walls, and so rapid was the firing that the Britisher had no chance. The flag was hauled down, and a ringing cheer from the Americans crowned the victory of that Sunday. CHAPTER XXIII. THE STORY OF THE FIGHT. Lieutenant Allen was sent on board the prize. He found the decks in a fearful condition. The hauling down of the flag had turned the survivors into veritable demons. They broke open the hatches and got to the rum. Some of the crew were already drunk, others nearly so. Some were throwing the dead overboard, and with a heartlessness which was horrible were even serving the wounded the same way.