"And have them attack our ship?" "Faith, it's there I want to lure the spalpeens; we'd have an aisy mark on the Nashville. Shure, sir," asked Dan in an injured tone, "it wasn't afraid you thought I was?" "No, no, Dan." "Begorra, an' it's betther I feel. But where's Young Glory?" "Young Glory! why, he's gone!" "Gone!" Yes, that was the fact. Young Glory had deserted in the thick of the fight, and a blank look of despair came over every face when they saw what had happened. "Deserted! shown the white feather!" muttered Lieutenant Tyler. "I couldn't have believed it of Young Glory." "An' shure, if ye did, sir, ye'd be decavin' yourself," said Dan, hotly, sticking up for his chum through thick and thin. "But he's gone!" was the cry. "Begorra! P'haps the poor lad's hurt. Faith, it's a Spanish bullet he may have in him, worse luck. Fear and Young Glory can't be coupled together, me lads. It's Dan Daly tells you so, an' it's himself that knows." "They're forming for the attack, my men." "Yes, sir." "Stand firm, lads." "We will die where we stand." "Hurrah!" "That's the way to talk." The men, desperate though their situation was, were as defiant as ever. The blue jacket who proposed making terms with the enemy would have had a very hot time. But to the credit of these sailors, it may be said, that they were all heroes, and not a man amongst them knew what fear meant. Cutlass in hand, sternly they stood facing the foe. "No quarter!" cried a Spanish officer. "We have offered it once, and they replied with a broadside. Forward to the attack for your king and country!" Roused to a pitch of frenzy by this address, the Spaniards waved their swords in the air. Then, in a close column, they thundered along the deck to where the small, but devoted band of American blue jackets awaited the attack. CHAPTER XI. YOUNG GLORY TO THE RESCUE--A SURPRISE FOR THE BROOKLYN. Lieutenant Tyler glanced round involuntarily. It was like a man taking his last look at the earth. The lieutenant was as brave as a lion, but he saw only one issue to the fight. "Would that Young Glory were here!" he cried. "He's equal to twenty men!" Then the two forces closed in a fierce fight. Back the Americans retreated. Well they might do so. The enemy was more than four to one, and the weight of numbers was irresistible. But the Nashville's blue jackets fought desperately, and for every American sailor that fell, four Spaniards were stretched on the deck. "The victory shall cost them dear!" hissed Mr. Tyler. He knew that his men would fight to the last. Captain Moret, entirely unmoved, saw his men falling like flies. What did he care? A Spanish officer places no value on the lives of those under him, and besides, he knew that his men must win. Ha! what was that? A terrific shout was heard now, above the clashing of steel. "Young Glory to the rescue!" That was the cry that came from fifty lips. Then in a moment all saw what had happened.