Somehow the musket-balls had stopped their humming through the upper rigging, and even the firing of the _Wasp_ had slackened, as McGovern, reaching for one of the stays, rode down it safely and reached the deck. And now occurred a thing that has been unchronicled, and yet has had its parallel in many instances of history. A cheer arose, a strong, manly cheer,--it came from across the water; it preceded by an instant the roaring of the hoarse voices close about him. But McGovern's ear had caught it. "Hark!" he cried, pushing his way forward to reach his station. "Hark, they're cheerin'! They must have thought we've struck. We'll show 'em!" He picked up his sponge again. Now the firing became incessant. Steadily as the blows of a hammer were delivered the telling shots from the _Wasp's_ port divisions. The flames of powder scorched the enemy's bows. All at once there came a crash. The jibboom of the Englishman swept across the deck, tearing away the shrouds and braces, and then with a heave and a lurch the vessels came together, grinding and crunching with a sound of splintering and tearing of timbers as they rolled in the heavy sea. There was not a man on board the _Wasp_ that did not expect to see the English sailors come swarming over the bow of their vessel, and drop down to fight in the old-fashioned way, hand to hand and eye to eye. But there must have been some delay. For an instant there was a silence except for the ripping of the Englishman's bow against the _Wasp's_ quarter. But the red-crossed flag was still flying. Captain Jones saw his opportunity. The enemy lay in so fair a position to be raked that some of the _Wasp's_ guns extended through her bow ports. The men, who, without waiting for orders had caught up cutlasses and boarding-pikes, were ordered back to their stations, and at such close quarters the broadside that followed shattered the enemy's topsides as might an explosion on her 'tween decks. Two guns of the after division, loaded with round and grape, swept her full length.