"I'll toss you for it, Señor Capitano," said Slingsby; "bet you a bottle of champagne that I will hit the guarda costa." "Done," said I; "toss for the first fire." We tossed, and it fell to Jack. "Take care that you don't hit the felucca." "Miss the pigeon and hit the crow--eh, Dick?" he said, while, laughing, he applied his eye to the sites on the breech, and proceeded to adjust the screw, to the evident annoyance of the gunner, who, while he could not decline to relinquish his place to an officer, was piqued on being deprived of a chance of retrieving his name as a professional marksman; and now he stood by, with his match lighted, in the earnest hope, doubtless, that Jack Slingsby would send his shot as wide of the mark as possible. Cigar in mouth, Jack glanced coolly--almost carelessly--along the gun, and on covering his object, cried--"fire!" Again the lintstock fell on the touch-hole; again the gun-shot rolled along the echoing shore, and pealed away to seaward; a large white splinter was seen on the gunwale of the guarda costa; her sails shivered and flapped in the wind, as the ball struck her, and suddenly backing her mainyard, she lay to, heaving like a wounded seabird, on the long glassy ridges of the ground-swell, ere the burst of applause with which our soldiers greeted Slingsby had died away--for my friend Jack was one of their most favourite officers. "You did for her, there, sir," said the gunner, approvingly, as he rammed home the sponge. "Yes, but as you fired when she was much further off, remember that I have the less credit in hitting," replied Jack, as he gave the gunner a crown-piece to console him. By this time the felucca, with a shout of derision rising from her deck, ran into the harbour, ducking her colours thrice to us in salute, as she passed the New Mole Fort. I had not been looking for more than a minute through the spy-glass at the guarda costa, when I became assured that some one on board had been wounded severely, either by the shot or its splinters. The crew--all save the man at the wheel--were grouped amidships; many were kneeling on the deck, and, once or twice, clenched hands were fiercely shaken in menace towards the battery; then we saw a man borne carefully aft between several others. "Some one has evidently been killed or wounded desperately," said I, handing the glass to Slingsby. "Good Heaven! do you say so?" cried Jack; "well, it would seem so--poor fellow--you know, Ramble, I did not exactly anticipate such a thing--so it is--so it is! There is a man stretched on the deck!" he added, passing the telescope to our soldiers. "We have only obeyed a standing garrison order," said I; "and the responsibility thereof, if any, does not lie with us, but with those who issued it. Come back to the guard-room, Jack, and my servant shall go to the messman for that bottle of champagne you have won so well."