Scarcely had he uttered the words, when a couple of guns were ran out at the schooner's stern ports, and a shower of langrage, nails, bits of iron, lead, and missiles of all sorts, came rattling among them, accompanied by a volley of musketry. One or two of the seamen and one of the marines were hit, but the boat pulled on as fast as before. "Marines, give it the scoundrels," cried Mr Evans. The red-jackets, turning round, deliberately picked off several of the people who had fired at them. They had scarcely time to load again before the boat was alongside the schooner, and the seamen, cutlass in hand, began to scramble up on her decks. Pikes were poked out at them, pistols were flashed in their faces, and cold shot hove into their boat, but fiercely as the pirates fought, they could not prevent the British seamen from gaining the deck of their vessel. Desperate was the struggle which took place there. Both parties fought for their lives. The English knew that they should receive no quarter. The pirates did not expect it either. Jack was soon knocked down, but he got up again with a somewhat ugly gash on his arm, and went at it as hard as ever. At length Mr Evans and his men gained the afterpart of the vessel, and were thus able to command her movements, but the pirates still clustered thickly in the bows, and were evidently preparing to make a rush aft. The English had left their boat, which was alongside, with her painter made fast to the fore-chains. This was an oversight. The pirates perceived it, hauled her ahead, and instead of attempting to regain their vessel, the greater number, jumping into her, made off, leaving four or five of their companions in the hands of the British. These few threw down their arms and sang out for quarter. This was granted them, little as they deserved it. Meantime the rest of the pirates pulled away for the shore, and were soon concealed from view behind a wooded point. "See the cable ranged, to bring up, Mr Rogers," was the first order given by the lieutenant.