Such was Headland's history, and Harry assured him at its close that he always knew he must be a gentleman by birth, as he was in every other possible way. "I heartily wish," he said, "that you may some day find out to whom you belong. Whoever they are you may depend on it they will welcome you joyfully. Why there goes eight bells. Our watch has indeed passed quickly away." The two midshipmen were relieved and went below. They had scarcely, as they supposed, closed their eyes, when the boatswain's rough voice and shrill pipe roused them up with a cry of "All hands on deck!" followed by the quick roll of the drum, the well known beat to quarters. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. HOME, WITH PROMOTION. As Harry and his friend reached the deck they caught sight of a strange frigate standing towards the _Triton_, which was, as has already been said, off the port of Carthagena, and as they looked towards the land they observed a small vessel under all sail running in for it. That the stranger was an enemy there was no doubt, and as she was evidently as heavy a frigate as the Triton, there appeared, even should she be captured, with the Spanish squadron close at hand, little prospect of her being brought off. There was indeed a great chance that the _Triton_ herself would not escape should she be crippled. "The odds are against us," observed the captain to his first lieutenant. "We must not, however, show our heels to a single frigate, and will do our best to take her before the enemy can come out to her rescue." "Ay, ay, sir; take her we shall, and I hope get off with her too," was the answer. The crew were at their quarters, stripped to the waist, waiting eagerly to begin the action. The second lieutenant being left on shore and the third being ill, Headland and Harry were doing duty in their places, though the third lieutenant came on deck when he heard of the pending action. The stranger, which hoisted Spanish colours, and was seen to be of 34 guns, two more than the _Triton_, approaching within hail then hauled to the wind, on the _Triton's_ weather beam. "Give her a shot!" cried the captain, "to prove her." Scarcely had the flash been seen than a whole broadside fired by the enemy came rattling on board the _Triton_. It was returned by the British crew. Broadside after broadside was given and received. In vain Captain Fancourt endeavoured to haul either ahead or astern of the enemy to rake her. She kept her advantageous position, and the Spaniards, whatever may sometimes be said of them, fought their ship gallantly. The action continued to be a regular broadside to broadside one. The boatswain was seen examining the masts with anxious looks. They and the bowsprit had been wounded pretty severely, while the rigging hung in festoons, and her sails were shot through and torn. Still the British seamen fought their guns as energetically as at first.