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The vessel, which appeared so inopportunely for
the safety of the ill-manned British cruiser, was, in
truth, a ship that had roved from among the islands
of the Caribean sea, in quest of some such adventure
as that which now presented itself. She was called
la belle Fontange, and her commander, a youth of
two-and-twenty, was already well known in the
salons of the Marais, and behind the walls of the
Rue Bass des Remparts, as one of the most gay and
amiable of those who frequented the former, and
one of the most spirited and skilful among the adventurers
who sometimes trusted to their address in
the latter. Rank, and influence at Versailles, had
procured for the young Chevalier Dumont de la
Rocheforte a command to which he could lay no
claim either by his experience or his services. His
mother, a near relative of one of the beauties of the
court, had been commanded to use sea-bathing, as a
preventive against the consequences of the bite of a
rabid lap-dog. By way of a suitable episode to the
long descriptions she was in the daily habit of writing
to those whose knowledge of her new element was
limited to the constant view of a few ponds and
ditches teeming with carp, or an occasional glimpse
of some of the turbid reaches of the Seine, she had
vowed to devote her youngest child to Neptune! In
due time, that is to say, while the poetic sentiment
was at the access, the young chevalier was duly enrolled,
and, in a time that greatly anticipated all

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regular and judicious preferment, he was placed in
command of the corvette in question, and sent to
the Indies to gain glory for himself and his country.

The Chevalier Dumont de la Rocheforte was
brave, but his courage was not the calm and silent
self-possession of a seaman. Like himself, it was
lively, buoyant, thoughtless, bustling, and full of
animal feeling. He had all the pride of a gentleman,
and, unfortunately for the duty which he had now
for the first time to perform, one of its dictates taught
him to despise that species of mechanical knowledge
which it was, just at this moment, so important to
the commander of la Fontange to possess. He could
dance to admiration, did the honors of his cabin with
faultless elegance, and had caused the death of an
excellent mariner, who had accidentally fallen overboard,
by jumping into the sea to aid him, without
knowing how to swim a stroke himself,—a rashness
that had diverted those exertions which might have
saved the unfortunate sailor, from the assistance of
the subordinate to the safety of his superior. He
wrote sonnets prettily, and had some ideas of the
new philosophy which was just beginning to dawn
upon the world; but the cordage of his ship, and the
lines of a mathematical problem, equally presented
labyrinths he had never threaded.

It was perhaps fortunate for the safety of all in
her, that la belle Fontange possessed an inferior officer,
in the person of a native of Boulogne-sur-Mer,
who was quite competent to see that she kept the
proper course, and that she displayed none of the
top-gallants of her pride, at unpropitious moments.
The ship itself was sufficiently and finely moulded,
of a light and airy rig, and of established reputation
for speed. If it was defective in any thing, it had
the fault, in common with its commander, of a want
of sufficient solidity to resist the vicissitudes and

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dangers of the turbulent element on which it was
destined to act.

The vessels were now within a mile of each other.
The breeze was steady, and sufficiently fresh for all
the ordinary evolutions of a naval combat; while the
water was just quiet enough to permit the ships to
be handled with confidence and accuracy. La Fontange
was running with her head to the eastward,
and, as she had the advantage of the wind, her tall
tracery of spars leaned gently in the direction of her
adversary. The Coquette was standing on the other
tack, and necessarily inclined from her enemy. Both
vessels were stripped to their topsails, spankers, and
jibs, though the lofty sails of the Frenchman were fluttering
in the breeze, like the graceful folds of some
fanciful drapery. No human being was distinctly
visible in either fabric, though dark clusters around
each mast-head showed that the ready top-men were
prepared to discharge their duties, even in the confusion
and dangers of the impending contest. Once
or twice, la Fontange inclined her head more in the
direction of her adversary; and then, sweeping up
again to the wind, she stood on in stately beauty.
The moment was near when the ships were about
to cross each other, at a point where a musket would
readily send its messenger across the water that lay
between them. Ludlow, who closely watched each
change of position, and every rise and fall of the
breeze, went on the poop, and swept the horizon with
his glass, for the last time before his ship should be
enveloped in smoke. To his surprise, he discovered
a pyramid of canvas rising above the sea, in the direction
of the wind. The sail was clearly visible to
the naked eye, and had only escaped earlier observation
in the duties of so urgent a moment. Calling
the master to his side, he inquired his opinion concerning
the character of the second stranger. But
Trysail confessed it exceeded even his long-tried

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powers of observation, to say more than that it was a
ship running before the wind, with a cloud of sail
spread. After a second and a longer look, however,
the experienced master ventured to add that the
stranger had the squareness and symmetry of a cruiser,
but of what size he would not yet presume to declare.

“It may be a light ship, under her top-gallant and
studding-sails, or it may be, that we see only the lofty
duck of some heavier vessel, Captain Ludlow;—ha!
he has caught the eye of the Frenchman, for the corvette
has signals abroad!”

“To your glass!—If the stranger answer, we have
no choice but our speed.”

There was another keen and anxious examination
of the upper spars of the distant ship, but the
direction of the wind prevented any signs of her
communicating with the corvette from being visible.
La Fontange appeared equally uncertain of the character
of the stranger, and for a moment there was
some evidence of an intention to change her course.
But the moment for indecision had past. The ships
were already sweeping up abreast of each other,
under the constant pressure of the breeze.

“Be ready, men!” said Ludlow, in a low but firm
voice, retaining his elevated post on the poop, while
he motioned to his companion to return to the main-deck.
“Fire at his flash!”

Intense expectation succeeded. The two graceful
fabrics sailed steadily on, and came within hail. So
profound was the stillness in the Coquette, that the
rushing sound of the water she heaped under her
bows was distinctly audible to all on board, and might
be likened to the deep breathing of some vast animal,
that was collecting its physical energies for some unusual
exertion. On the other hand, tongues were loud
and clamorous among the cordage of la Fontange.
Just as the ships were fairly abeam, the voice of

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young Dumont was heard, shouting through a trumpet,
for his men to fire. Ludlow smiled, in a seaman's
scorn. Raising his own trumpet, with a quiet gesture
to his attentive and ready crew, the whole discharge
of their artillery broke out of the dark side of the
ship, as if it had been by the volition of the fabric.
The answering broadside was received almost as soon
as their own had been given, and the two vessels
passed swiftly without the line of shot.

The wind had sent back their own smoke upon the
English, and for a time it floated on their decks,
wreathed itself in the eddies of the sails, and passed
away to leeward, with the breeze that succeeded to
the counter-current of the explosions. The whistling
of shot, and the crash of wood, had been heard amid
the din of the combat. Giving a glance at his enemy,
who still stood on, Ludlow leaned from the poop, and,
with all a sailor's anxiety, he endeavored to scan the
gear aloft.

“What is gone, Sir?” he asked of Trysail, whose
earnest face just then became visible through the
drifting smoke. “What sail is so heavily flapping?”

“Little harm done, Sir—little harm—bear a hand
with the tackle on that fore-yard-arm, you lubbers!
you move like snails in a minuet! The fellow has
shot away the lee fore-top-sail-sheet, Sir; but we
shall soon get our wings spread again. Lash it down,
boys, as if it were butt-bolted;—so; steady out your
bowline, forward.—Meet her, you can; meet her,
you may—meet her!”

The smoke had disappeared, and the eye of the
captain rapidly scanned the whole of his ship. Three
or four top-men had already caught the flapping
canvas, and were seated on the extremity of the
fore-yard, busied in securing their prize. A hole or
two was visible in the other sails, and here and
there an unimportant rope was dangling in a manner
to show that it had been cut by shot. Further than

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this, the damage aloft was not of a nature to attract
his attention.

There was a different scene on deck. The feeble
crew were earnestly occupied in loading the guns,
and rammers and spunges were handled, with all
the intenseness which men would manifest in a moment
so exciting. The Alderman was never more
absorbed in his leger than he now appeared in his
duty of a cannoneer; and the youths, to whom the
command of the batteries had necessarily been confided,
diligently aided him with their greater authority
and experience. Trysail stood near the capstan,
coolly giving the orders which have been related,
and gazing upward with an interest so absorbed as
to render him unconscious of all that passed around
his person. Ludlow saw, with pain, that blood discolored
the deck at his feet, and that a seaman lay
dead within reach of his arm. The rent plank and
shattered ceiling showed the spot where the destructive
missile had entered.

Compressing his lips like a man resolved, the commander
of the Coquette bent further forward, and
glanced at the wheel. The quarter-master, who
held the spokes, was erect, steady, and kept his eye
on the leech of the head-sail, as unerringly as the
needle points to the pole.

These were the observations of a single minute.
The different circumstances related had been ascertained
with so many rapid glances of the eye, and
they had even been noted without losing for a moment
the knowledge of the precise situation of la
Fontange. The latter was already in stays. It became
necessary to meet the evolution by another as
prompt.

The order was no sooner given, than the Coquette,
as if conscious of the hazard she ran of being raked,
whirled away from the wind, and, by the time her
adversary was ready to deliver her other broadside,

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she was in a position to receive and to return it,
Again the ships approached each other, and once
more they exchanged their streams of fire when
abeam.

Ludlow now saw, through the smoke, the ponderous
yard of la Fontange swinging heavily against
the breeze, and the main-topsail come flapping
against her mast. Swinging off from the poop by a
backstay that had been shot away a moment before,
he alighted on the quarter-deck by the side of the
master.

“Touch all the braces!” he said, hastily, but still
speaking low and clearly; “give a drag upon the
bowlines—luff, Sir, luff; jam the ship up hard
against the wind!”

The clear, steady answer of the quarter-master,
and the manner in which the Coquette, still vomiting
her sheets of flame, inclined towards the breeze, announced
the promptitude of the subordinates. In
another minute, the vast volumes of smoke which
enveloped the two ships joined, and formed one
white and troubled cloud, which was rolling swiftly
before the explosions, over the surface of the sea,
but which, as it rose higher in the air, sailed gracefully
to leeward.

Our young commander passed swiftly through the
batteries, spoke encouragingly to his people, and resumed
his post on the poop. The stationary position
of la Fontange, and his own efforts to get to windward,
were already proving advantageous to Queen
Anne's cruiser. There was some indecision on the
part of the other ship, which instantly caught the
eye of one whose readiness in his profession so much
resembled instinct.

The Chevalier Dumont had amused his leisure by
running his eyes over the records of the naval history
of his country, where he had found this and that
commander applauded for throwing their topsails to

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the mast, abreast of their enemies. Ignorant of the
difference between a ship in line and one engaged
singly, he had determined to prove himself equal to
a similar display of spirit. At the moment when
Ludlow was standing alone on the poop, watching
with vigilant eyes the progress of his own vessel, and
the position of his enemy, indicating merely by a
look or a gesture to the attentive Trysail beneath,
what he wished done, there was actually a wordy
discussion on the quarter-deck of the latter, between
the mariner of Boulogne-sur-Mer, and the gay favorite
of the salons. They debated on the expediency
of the step which the latter had taken, to
prove the existence of a quality that no one doubted.
The time lost in this difference of opinion was of the
last importance to the British cruiser. Standing gallantly
on, she was soon out of the range of her adversary's
fire; and, before the Boulognois had succeeded
in convincing his superior of his error, their
antagonist was on the other tack, and luffing across
the wake of la Fontange. The topsail was then tardily
filled, but before the latter ship had recovered
her motion, the sails of her enemy overshadowed her
deck. There was now every prospect of the Coquette
passing to windward. At that critical moment, the
fair-setting topsail of the British cruiser was nearly
rent in two by a shot. The ship fell off, the yards
interlocked, and the vessels were foul.

The Coquette had all the advantage of position.
Perceiving the important fact at a glance, Ludlow
made sure of its continuance by throwing his grapnels.
When the two ships were thus firmly lashed
together, the young Dumont found himself relieved
from a mountain of embarrassment. Sufficiently justified
by the fact that not a single gun of his own
would bear, while a murderous discharge of grape
had just swept along his decks, he issued the order to
board. But Ludlow, with his weakened crew, had

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not decided on so hazardous an evolution as that
which brought him in absolute contact with his
enemy, without foreseeing the means of avoiding all
the consequences. The vessels touched each other
only at one point, and this spot was protected by a
row of muskets. No sooner, therefore, did the impetuous
young Frenchman appear on the taffrail of
his own ship, supported by a band of followers, than
a close and deadly fire swept them away to a man.
Young Dumont alone remained. For a single moment,
his eye glared wildly; but the active frame,
still obedient to the governing impulse of so impetuous
a spirit, leaped onward. He fell, without life, on
the deck of his enemy.

Ludlow watched every movement, with a calmness
that neither personal responsibility, nor the uproar
and rapid incidents of the terrible scene, could
discompose.

“Now is our time to bring the matter hand to
hand!” he cried, making a gesture to Trysail to
descend from the ladder, in order that he might pass.

His arm was arrested, and the grave old master
pointed to windward.

“There is no mistaking the cut of those sails, or
the lofty rise of those spars! The stranger is another
Frenchman!”

One glance told Ludlow that his subordinate was
right; another sufficed to show what was now necessary.

“Cast loose the forward grapnel—cut it—away
with it, clear!” was shouted, through his trumpet,
in a voice that rose commanding and clear amid the
roar of the combat.

Released forward, the stern of the Coquette yielded
to the pressure of her enemy, whose sails were all
drawing, and she was soon in a position to enable her
head-yards to be braced sharp aback, in a direction
opposite to the one in which she had so lately lain.

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The whole broadside was then delivered into the
stern of la Fontange, the last grapnel was released,
and the ships separated.

The single spirit which presided over the evolutions
and exertions of the Coquette, still governed her
movements. The sails were trimmed, the ship was
got in command, and, before the vessels had been
asunder five minutes, the duty of the vessel was in
its ordinary active but noiseless train.

Nimble top-men were on the yards, and broad
folds of fresh canvas were flapping in the breeze, as
the new sails were bent and set. Ropes were spliced,
or supplied by new rigging, the spars examined, and
in fine all that watchfulness and sedulous care were
observed, which are so necessary to the efficiency and
safety of a ship. Every spar was secured, the pumps
were sounded, and the vessel held on her way, as
steadily as if she had never fired nor received a shot.

On the other hand, la Fontange betrayed the indecision
and confusion of a worsted ship. Her torn
canvas was blowing about in disorder, many important
ropes beat against her masts unheeded, and the
vessel itself drove before the breeze in the helplessness
of a wreck. For several minutes, there seemed
no controlling mind in the fabric; and when, after so
much distance was lost as to give her enemy all the
advantage of the wind, a tardy attempt was made
to bring the ship up again, the tallest and most important
of her masts was seen tottering, until it finally
fell, with all its hamper, into the sea.

Notwithstanding the absence of so many of his
people, success would now have been certain, had not
the presence of the stranger compelled Ludlow to
abandon his advantage. But the consequences to his
own vessel were too sure, to allow of more than a
natural and manly regret that so favorable an occasion
should escape him. The character of the stranger
could no longer be mistaken. The eye of every

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seaman in the Coquette as well understood the country
of the high and narrow-headed sails, the tall
taper masts and short yards of the frigate whose
hull was now distinctly visible, as a landsman recognizes
an individual by the distinguishing marks of
his features or attire. Had there been any lingering
doubts on the subject, they would have all given
place to certainty, when the stranger was seen exchanging
signals with the crippled corvette.

It was now time for Ludlow to come to a speedy
determination on his future course. The breeze still
held to the southward, but it was beginning to lessen,
with every appearance that it would fail before
nightfall. The land lay a few leagues to the northward,
and the whole horizon of the ocean, with the
exception of the two French cruisers, was clear. Descending
to the quarter-deck, he approached the
master, who was seated in a chair, while the surgeon
dressed a severe hurt in one of his legs. Shaking
the sturdy veteran cordially by the hand, he expressed
his acknowledgments for his support in a moment
so trying.

“God bless you! God bless you! Captain Ludlow;”
returned the old sailor, dashing his hand equivocally
across his weatherbeaten brow. “Battle is certainly
the place to try both ship and friends, and Heaven
be praised! Queen Anne has not failed of either
this day. No man has forgotten his duty, so far as
my eyes have witnessed; and this is saying no trifle,
with half a crew and an equal enemy. As for the
ship, she never behaved better! I had my misgivings,
when I saw the new main-topsail go, which it
did, as all here know, like a bit of rent muslin between
the fingers of a seamstress. Run forward, Mr.
Hopper, and tell the men in the fore rigging to take
another drag on that swifter, and to be careful and
bring the strain equal on all the shrouds.—A lively
youth, Captain Ludlow, and one who only wants a

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little reflection, with some more experience, and a
small dash of modesty, together with the seamanship
he will naturally get in time, to make a very tolerable
officer.”

“The boy promises well; but I have come to ask
thy advice, my old friend, concerning our next movements.
There is no doubt that the fellow who is
coming down upon us is both a Frenchman and a
frigate.”

“A man might as well doubt the nature of a fish-hawk,
which is to pick up all the small try, and to
let the big ones go. We might show him our canvas
and try the open sea, but I fear that fore-mast is too
weak, with three such holes in it, to bear the sail
we should need!”

“What think you of the wind?” said Ludlow,
affecting an indecision he did not feel, in order
to soothe the feelings of his wounded companion.
“Should it hold, we might double Montauk, and return
for the rest of our people; but should it fail, is
there no danger that the frigate should tow within
shot!—We have no boats to escape her.”

“The soundings on this coast are as regular as the
roof of an out-house,” said the master, after a moment
of thought, “and it is my advice, if it is your
pleasure to ask it, Captain Ludlow, that we shoal
our water as much as possible, while the wind lasts.
Then, I think, we shall be safe from a very near
visit from the big one:—as for the corvette, I am of
opinion, that, like a man who has eaten his dinner,
she has no stomach for another slice.”

Ludlow applauded the advice of his subordinate,
for it was precisely what he had determined on
doing; and after again complimenting him on his coolness
and skill, he issued the necessary orders. The
helm of the Coquette was now placed hard a-weather,
the yards were squared, and the ship was put before
the wind. After running, in this direction for a

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few hours, the wind gradually lessening, the lead announced
that the keel was quite as near the bottom
as the time of the tide, and the dull heaving and setting
of the element, rendered at all prudent. The
breeze soon after fell, and then our young commander
ordered an anchor to be dropped into the sea.

His example, in the latter respect, was imitated
by the hostile cruisers. They had soon joined, and
boats were seen passing from one to the other, so
long as there was light. When the sun fell behind
the western margin of the ocean, their dusky outlines,
distant about a league, gradually grew less and
less distinct, until the darkness of night enveloped
sea and land in its gloom.