Captain O’Loughlin, though quite justified in getting out of the way of so formidable an antagonist, resolved, nevertheless, to annoy her as much as possible. Having cut away the jolly boat to make room for four stern chasers, the Onyx opened fire from them, as soon as the French frigate got fairly within range, whose shot was flying over them. In a few minutes the fog, which kept increasing, put an end to the combat for the time. “We must get the weather-gage of that fellow,” said Captain O’Loughlin to his only lieutenant, Charles Pole, “in case we should meet again.” Accordingly, the Onyx hauled her wind to the eastward. Towards seven o’clock next morning she perceived her late antagonist close on her larboard quarter; whilst the Commander, with a speaking trumpet, hailed, ordering the corvette to strike. To this a broadside was returned, and the next moment the frigate ran her bowsprit right over the starboard bow of the corvette; but as the wind was blowing very fresh, her jib-boom broke short off, and the corvette forcing ahead, freed herself. Just then a sailor threw himself from the French ship into the rigging of the Onyx, and probably in the confusion would have been cut down, had he not shouted in a loud voice— “Hold hard, my men! I am an Englishman!” The denseness of the fog again separated the two ships, after exchanging each a broadside, by which one man was killed and three wounded on board the Onyx. Captain O’Loughlin altered his course, and stood away to the westward to repair and splice his rigging, which was desperately cut up. “Where is the man who threw himself on board?” demanded Captain O’Loughlin; “bring him aft.” It was then broad daylight, though the fog still covered the whole surface of the sea. In the course he was steering, Captain O’Loughlin did not again expect to see his late antagonist, from whom he considered he had a most fortunate escape, as she appeared full of men. He was then walking the deck with Lieutenant Pole, when the seaman who had leaped on board came upon the quarter-deck attended by the quarter-master. “This is the young man, sir,” said the latter, touching his hat; “he refuses to give any explanation except to the captain of the ship.” O’Loughlin looked at the stranger. He was a tall, slight, handsome young man, of about two or three and twenty; his complexion evidently tanned by a southern climate. There was a manly, independent manner in his bearing and look as he stood calmly facing the commander of the Onyx. “Well, sir,” said Captain O’Loughlin, “what have you to say for yourself? Were you a prisoner on board that ship—but, first of all, what was her name?” “The frigate Prudente, forty guns, and three hundred men,” replied the young man. “The deuce it was!” cried Captain O’Loughlin; “then we had a fortunate escape. Pray what were you doing on board?”