Lieutenant Garnet with one boat, Wildfire Ned with another, were pulling through the fog at a desperate rate towards the “Phantom” to cut it out from grounding, and were followed by Bob Bertram in a third, all of which were crowded with brave blue-jackets. When least expected, Death-wing heard the gallant shouts of his fearless foes. “Let every one arm to the teeth!” he said. “Stand ready to resist boarders!” Another loud shout was given by the blue-jackets as they pulled towards the vessel. “Pour broadsides of grape into them!” said Death-wing. In a second the boats bumped against the ship’s sides and were made fast. “They are upon us!” said Death-wing, brandishing his sword. In a second the gallant tars swarmed on to the ship’s decks. The first to spring among the Skeleton Crew was Wildfire Ned. With a loud shout he dashed at Death-wing and cleaved him to the deck! Wildfire Ned was quickly followed by Lieutenant Garnet, who, at the head of his brave boat’s crew, cut their way up on to the decks. And close at his heels followed Bob Bertram, supported by a strong body. The fighting was now dreadful on all sides. Wherever Wildfire Ned dashed he left behind him dozens of victims. Tim was in great danger, both from friend and foe. Glancing shots, and accidental strokes from swords and cutlasses came very near him. By continual shouting he attracted the attention of Bob Bertram, who immediately cut the ropes and set him free. Tim took advantage of his liberty to conceal himself as best he could under the bulwarks. But he amused himself very greatly by pounding on the skull of one of Death-wing’s band, who had been literally smashed to atoms by Wildfire Ned’s blows. The Skeleton Crew, finding that their vessel must now be stranded, and no hope remained of saving her, determined to blow her up. “Fire the magazine!” roared Death-wing, high above the din of battle. “Blow Wildfire Ned and his followers to atoms!” “Ha! ha! so _you_ are getting something for yourself this time, eh?” said Tim, as he recognized Death-wing’s voice; “but you don’t catch _me_ staying here if there’s anything of that sort going to take place.” So saying, Master Tim crawled over the vessel’s side, and got into one of the boats, and lay there very snugly out of harm’s way. Wildfire Ned, however, had a terrible task before him. He wanted to find the missing bride. He searched through the cabin. But no trace of her could be found. Not to be foiled he looked everywhere. “Blow up the magazine!” roared Death-wing again. As he spoke, a terrible thought crossed Ned’s mind, “Perhaps the fiends have placed the young bride there!” The thought was almost too horrible. With desperation and vengeance in his face, Wildfire Ned leaped into the hold below, sword in hand. Led by instinct, but why he knew not, Ned rushed madly to the stern of the vessel. In the lower hold he perceived a long fusee burning. There remained but two or three inches of it.