The infidel had wrongly calculated on an easy victory, when he attacked a ship commanded by so hardy and brave a seaman as Joze Pinto; for his crew, confiding in his courage and seamanship, fought as well as any seamen in the world--as the Portuguese always will do when well led-- and, after an hour's engagement, the effect of their efforts became perceptible, in the slackened fire of the enemy. Both the wind and sea had now much fallen; and, as the storm broke, flashes of lightning darted from the clouds--for a moment casting a lurid glare on the hostile ships and the foaming cauldron between them--again leaving a more fearful gloom on the scene. "Where is the infidel, where is the infidel?" was again shouted by the crew, after a bright flash had dazzled their eyes, and she had for the last minute ceased firing. "She's gone, she's gone!" The officers looked eagerly out--no one could see the pirate ship--but they dreaded some treachery: the guns, therefore, were loaded and run out; the crew waiting in breathless expectation to catch sight of her, when she was again perceived coming up close on their quarter, with the intent, it seemed, to range up alongside; yet nothing but madness or desperation could have instigated them to the act, for certain destruction threatened both, if she should attempt to board; for, once joined, the sea must overwhelm them both. "Boarders, come aft," shouted the Captain: "starboard the helm." The manoeuvre caused the rover to miss his aim, and as he threw his grapnels, they fell into the water. "Steady, again," the Captain cried; but the rover was not to be deceived a second time; for, with determined daring, putting his helm also to starboard, he ranged alongside, and locked his yard-arms in a deadly embrace with those of the Portuguese. A loud shriek of horror arose from many, even of the brave, on board. "Silence, men, silence!" cried Captain Pinto: "aloft, and cut away: be prepared to repel boarders." The men sprang to the rigging as ordered: all knew that their lives depended on their activity. A loud crashing noise was heard as the stout spars tore and wrenched each other from the ropes which held them, falling in splinters from aloft; but as yet the hulls of the ships had not touched, the sea in foaming torrents dashing up between them, and inundating the decks of both. What we have been describing took place in a few seconds. "Fire!" shouted the Captain; and the balls were seen to tear up the sides of the rover, who appeared to be incapable of answering the discharge.