The Mexicans fancied themselves so secure from an attack, that most of the crew had left their quarters to follow the manoeuvres of the brig; the sailors, perched on the yards, or leaning out of the ports, were curiously looking on, without dreaming of the danger such a breach of discipline might entail. In the meanwhile the brig came round, as Don Serapio had said. Suddenly, at the moment when it completed the manoeuvre, a detonation was heard, a shrill whistle cut through the air, and the corvette's bowsprit, pierced by a ball, fell into the sea, dragging with it the foremast. This produced an extraordinary pause and confusion on board the corvette; the terrified sailors ran about in all directions, listening to nothing. At length the Commandant succeeded in overcoming the tumult; the crew recognized his voice, and at the order to fire, fifteen guns thundered at once, in reply to the unjustifiable aggression of the privateer. CHAPTER XX. THE PRIZE. The damage sustained by the corvette was serious; the bowsprit is the key of the ship's rigging, its loss entailed that of the foremast, which the main-topmast, no longer stayed, speedily followed. The utmost disorder prevailed on board, when, as nearly always happens under such circumstances, the crew had suddenly passed from blind confidence to profound terror. The deck was encumbered with fragments of every description, yards, spars, sails, stunsail-booms, and entangled rigging, in the midst of which the sailors ran about distractedly, abandoning their posts, deaf to the exhortations equally with the menaces of their officers, and having only one thought: to escape from the death they believed suspended over their heads. Still, the officers did not at all conceal from themselves the gravity of their position, which the brig's manoeuvres rendered more complicated, and momentarily more precarious; they did all in their power, therefore, to restore a little courage to all these individuals, whom terror blinded, and induce them to sell their lives dearly. A fresh incident occurred suddenly, which rendered the situation of the ship, if possible, more critical and desperate. Commandant Rodriguez had not left the quarterdeck; motionless at his post during the events we have described, he had continued to give his orders in a firm voice, apparently not noticing the symptoms of insubordination which, since the catastrophe had happened, were manifest amongst the crew. With pale face, frowning brow, and clenched teeth, the old sailor mechanically played with the hilt of his sword, taking every now and then a cold and resolute glance around him, while exerting his officers to redouble their efforts to do their duty bravely.