"There is a vessel on shore close to the cape," observed Higson. "She must, I fear, be the _Tiger_" said Jack; "we may still be in time to help her. Perhaps she has driven off the Russians." "I am afraid not," said Higson, "for I can make out several boats surrounding her. I fear that Captain Giffard has been compelled to strike his flag, and that the Russians are removing the prisoners." "He would not have done that as long as he had the slightest hope of saving his ship," said Jack; "still we may be in time to prevent her from falling into the enemy's hands." While all on board were watching the ship on shore, flames were seen to burst out from her fore and aft. "She's done for; and all her crew, I fear, will be made prisoners," said Jack. Deep sympathy was felt on board for the unfortunate ship's company, and vexation that so fine a vessel should be lost. Little hope remained of their being able to extinguish the flames. Still Jack determined to try what could be done. In a few minutes, however, the matter was set at rest--the fire increased, the masts and spars of the doomed ship were enveloped in flames; and then there came a thundering report, her deck lifted, the masts shot upwards, and an instant afterwards, as they came down hissing into the water, a few blackened timbers alone remained of the stout ship which had lately floated buoyantly on the ocean with her gallant crew. Jack and his consort opened their fire on the Russian troops, who still remained in sight; but they, knowing that their field-pieces could produce no effect upon the ships, quickly retired out of harm's way, and the steamers again stood off the shore. It was not till some time afterwards, on the release of the crew, that Jack heard of the circumstances connected with the loss of the _Tiger_. She had gone on shore during a fog, when her situation was perceived by a body of Russian troops, who at once brought a battery of field-guns to bear upon her, assailing her incessantly also with a fire of musketry. Her captain was suffering from a severe fever at the time, but, immediately going on deck, was giving directions for hauling her off when he fell mortally wounded, both his thighs broken by a round-shot. Several of his men were struck down at the same time; and at length the first lieutenant, finding it impossible to get the ship off, hauled down his flag. Directly the Russians ceased firing, boats came off, and the officers and crew, with their wounded captain, were carried on shore. Instead, however, of receiving the rough usage they expected, all the prisoners, especially the wounded, were treated by the Russians with the most considerate humanity; and they acknowledged that, had they been wrecked on their own coast, they could not have received greater attention and kindness than was bestowed on them by their enemies. Nothing, however, could save the life of Captain Giffard, who quickly sank from the effects of his terrible wound.