“No fear in the world of them,” said Julian. “Captain Bonafoux says he can outsail the Etoile, and that he will run into a bight where the frigate cannot come near. You need not be uneasy. Let us take this fellow; the frigate is full a league to leeward yet. Never mind my wet clothes; it’s refreshing, this deuced hot weather. Give me a berth, for I see you are short-handed.” “Thank God! there is a chance of their escaping, Julian; and I rejoice in having you by my side. Go, get arms, for I am determined to board this privateer, though he is full of men. I must try and cripple him first, though.” After several exchanges of broadsides, the heavy metal of the Vengeance, well served, left the Etoile in half an hour with only her main-mast standing, several of her crew killed, and numbers wounded. On board the Vengeance there were two killed and five wounded, and her mizen-mast shot away, when, suddenly putting her helm to port, Lieutenant Thornton ran her on board with such a severe shock that her injured fore-mast fell right along the deck, covering her guns and many of the men beneath the folds of her immense lug. Then, with the usual cheer of British seamen, the English commander, with Julian by his side, and followed by his daring and eager crew, jumped on deck. Almost the first opponent he encountered was Bertram Gramont. He had a sash tied round his waist, in which were a brace of pistols, and rushing upon our hero with his drawn sabre in his right hand, he discharged a pistol at his head as he leaped from the shrouds upon the deck of the Etoile. “Ah! Monsieur Gramont,” said Lieutenant Thornton, the ball of his opponent’s pistol passing through the breast of his jacket, inflicting a mere scratch, “do we meet again?” The Frenchman was a first-rate swordsman, and a man of undoubted courage. “Yes, Monsieur de Tourville that was, we do meet again; but this time you shall not escape me.” The Frenchman was mistaken. In general, English naval officers are not so skilful with the sword as French cavalry officers. Bertram Gramont found, however, that he had his match in skill, and twice his match in power. Whilst the short but fierce contest raged between them, two events took place that decided the fate of the Etoile. The sails over the guns had caught fire, owing to some desperate fellows beneath turning one of them loaded with grape towards the stern of the privateer, and applying a match, the iron shower actually slaughtering friend and foe. Captain Ovet was desperately wounded, and Captain Gaudet killed, with one or two of his men, whilst several of Lieutenant Thornton’s men were wounded, but none killed.