Captain O’Loughlin was deeply chagrined; resistance was totally out of the question; and added to his great vexation was the thought that the ladies on board, as well as his friend Thornton’s little charge, would fall into the hands of the Revolutionary party. Madame Volney and her daughters were in terrible despair; they saw that Captain O’Loughlin suffered intensely, and being unable to express in French what he felt and wished to advise, rendered him even more miserable. But just as the boat had come within hail of the corvette, a gun from the French ship and a signal run up to the mast-head, caused them, to the extreme surprise of Captain O’Loughlin, to at once turn back, and lower the flag of truce. “What’s in the wind now?” exclaimed Captain O’Loughlin. “Be the powers of war, Mr. Pearson,” addressing his first mate, “there goes the frigate and the lugger, the lugger bang in amongst the Cardinal Rocks, and the frigate standing right across us. Lie down, quick!” he shouted to the men, as he cast a glance round; “she is going to fire!” As he spoke an iron shower passed partly over them, wounding two men, and cutting the Babet’s rigging in many places into shreds. The next instant she was plunging into the head sea without the island. This seeming mystery was soon explained, for the tall masts of another large ship were seen rounding the point, and soon the sails and hull of an English frigate came into view. A loud and triumphant cheer burst from the crew of the Babet, and in a moment the English ensign was waving from her mast-head. The English frigate was about half a mile from the shore; and as the wind then blew she could lie along the coast of Belleisle, and gain the open sea on rounding the eastern side. She was evidently following the French frigate, and both were seeking the open sea, probably to attack each other; for in the confined space between Belleisle, the Cardinal Rocks, and the banks and shoals lying off the mouth of the Loire, it would have been impossible, as the wind then blew, to manœuvre two frigates with any degree of safety. As soon as the English ship beheld the Babet, a signal was run up at her mast-head, requiring to know her name. This was answered, and several other signals followed. Captain O’Loughlin thus learned that the British frigate was the Iris, thirty-two guns, the French ship the Citoyenne-Française; but in a quarter of an hour the former disappeared, standing out to sea on the same tack as the Frenchman. “Now, my lads,” said Captain O’Loughlin, cheerfully, “we must get out of this place as fast as possible; the wind favours us a point or two since morning, so just be quick. Splice and knot the rigging, and we will attempt the passage before they can send any troops from Palais to pepper us.”