A lucky shot from the Babet cut the slings of her fore yard, not being hung in chains, bringing it down with a crash upon her deck. “Come, that’s a settler for you, Master Crapaud,” sung out the gunner; but immediately their pursuers set their main course without a reef, under which she tore through the water, and in less than half-an-hour it became very evident she would pour a broadside into them. She was a fine, handsome craft, apparently carrying sixteen guns, and well manned. She hoisted the privateer flag, and ranging up alongside, within pistol-shot, poured in a discharge of grape and canister from her eight-pounders; but, from the fury of the gale, and the tremendous swell, the iron shower passed harmless over the deck of the Babet. “Now, my lads,” cried Captain O’Loughlin, “we must try and get rid of this troublesome leech, for if the wind lulls, which it will, the farther we draw to the southward, she will be too much for us. So bring over two more guns to this side, watch an opportunity when she heels over to port with the swell, and let her have a dose of round shot below her water-mark.” “Aye, ay, sir,” said the gunner; “we’ll do our best to physic her.” In so heavy a gale, and with such a sea running, Captain O’Loughlin knew that the privateer would not attempt to board him, as the destruction of both vessels would ensue; neither could he manœuvre the Babet in any other way whatever than to let her go before the wind. If he attempted to get up his spars, he would expose his men to the musketry of the privateer, whose crew appeared to amount to more than one hundred and twenty. She rolled in the cross sea considerably more than the Babet, having less beam, and her lower masts and main and mizen yards standing. The two ships were scarcely pistol-shot from each other; so, watching the opportunity, and the guns being skilfully pointed, the broadside was discharged right into the hull of the privateer, who, rolling over to port, left herself greatly exposed to the iron shower; as she came upright, she again discharged a broadside of grape upon the Babet, killing one man and wounding three, but not severely. William Thornton was standing anxiously watching the effect of their broadside; he could hear the shot hulling her, and could see that her bulwarks were knocked into splinters, and the next few minutes satisfied the crew of the Babet that their broadside had, as their Captain hoped, rid them of their dangerous enemy; for, after a very short time, she altered her course, bracing up on a wind, and heeling over exceedingly on the opposite tack. This was done evidently to keep her wounded side out of the water till they plugged the shot-holes, if they could. A loud cheer from the Babet’s crew testified their satisfaction. “Be my conscience, William, I think our pills will injure our friend’s digestion; she’ll have enough to do to keep afloat. One or two of the balls struck very low, and the holes will be hard to get at.”