Be ready, men!"

In another minute the American vessel gracefully swept around, setting every sail in good position for the conflict. Then the captain signalled for a round from the larboard guns. Instantly the big cannon bellowed forth their messenger of death. But it was none too soon, for at the same moment smoke issued from the bow of the frigate, and a twenty pound ball plunged through the ranks on the deck of the _North King_, shattering one of the boats to pieces.

"A good shot," said the captain quietly, as his men carried off a dead seaman and a couple of wounded soldiers.

"Her name's the _Delaware_," said Sir George, who was using his gla.s.s.

"We've hit her," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the captain. "There's a hole in her forecastle and her bowsprit's gone. Give her the rest of the larboard guns."

That the _Delaware_ was injured was evident, for although continuing to fire, she tacked again and put on full sail to increase the distance between herself and the British ship.

A fierce yell rang out from the men. The order for chase was given and, wild with enthusiasm, every st.i.tch of canvas was put on in hope of overtaking the retreating _Delaware_. The sun shone overhead among white-cap clouds, and the sea was tossing big waves and foamy jets over the sides of the ships; while at brief intervals one or other continued to belch out its thunder and its shot.

But the distance was too great for many of the b.a.l.l.s to be effective.

The Yankee fire did some damage to the rigging and sent a nine-pound ball through a porthole, making havoc inside, and wounding men; but as she was creeping further away the fire of the _North King_ did little service. Over and over again the gunners aimed at her mizzen-mast, but it didn't budge. They were not sure that the shot even touched the ship.

The fight was discouraging. At last there was a new manoeuvre on the frigate.

"They are making desperate efforts over there," commented the Colonel.

"Yes," exclaimed Captain Payne, who was also closely watching the _Delaware_, "they are placing their biggest gun in the stern, right behind the mizzen-mast. Our fire has destroyed the railing and you can see what they are at."

"Good Lord! to rake us with their big ball as a parting salute," was...o...b..rne's comment. "But we'll be even with them," and he hurried forward to give his command.

"That gun must be disabled at any cost," he yelled to his men, and with another shout they tried to do his bidding.

That the _Delaware_ was determined to carry out her plans was evident.

With her stern to her foe, her men were taking in sail to diminish the intervening distance and make the shot more telling.

"If they would only let us get within musket range," suggested Captain Payne.

"We might reach her now," exclaimed Sir George. "Give the order, Captain. Having once fired that d----d cannon they will put on sail again."

By Captain Osborne's order half a dozen b.a.l.l.s whirled away from the muzzles of the forward guns, simultaneously with the crash of the musketry. Through his gla.s.s, Sir George saw a gunner at the big cannon fall, while the main deck of the frigate was torn up by the cannonading.

But the big gun was still uninjured, and the _Delaware_ had its revenge.

Another seaman stepped into place and put a match to the magazine. Then with terrible force the huge ball crashed above water mark into the prow of the _North King_.

A yell could be heard from the Americans, for they saw the damage they had done; but as another broadside from the liner smashed into their rigging, they hoisted full sail again and gradually swept out of range.

The exasperating effects of slow sailing could not be helped; and the battle being over, attention was directed to the dead and wounded, and the damage done.

How much the _Delaware_ was injured it was impossible to tell, for she did not return to the attack. Steadily the distance increased between the two ships, and before night came, the last trace of the frigate was discerned from the mast head, disappearing over the horizon.

Much against her will Helen had remained in her stateroom during the whole of the contest. She had not appeared on deck that day when the _Delaware_ was first seen, and the order to clear the decks given. After the battle, however, she went to the prow of the boat with Harold, in time to see the clipper's heels gradually disappearing.

"Are you glad it is over?" he asked, as he slipped his arm around her.

"I suppose I should be," was her answer, fixing her eyes on the distant frigate, "but I don't know that I am. It was audacious for a little thing like that to attack a big war vessel like the _North King_. They have killed some of our men, too; a pity you didn't give them a thrashing. Perhaps you couldn't?"

"Why, Helen, what a fighter you are!"

"I came by it naturally, I suppose." This time she laughed. "If the feeling had not been inherited, perhaps I would not have been willing to have come with you at all."

"And now you cannot turn back even if you want to."

"But, dearie, I don't and never did."

"Not even when the enemy were killing our men?" he asked, looking earnestly into her eyes.

"No, not even then," she said; "but I think Sir George might have let me come on deck."

"And expose the only lady we've got, and she my wife, to the h.e.l.lish dangers of battle. No, indeed, my dear. What do you take us for?"

"If we have another fight I'll ask him," was her answer.

"And I suppose you think he will consent?"

But there were no more battles, in that voyage at least.

The wounded men progressed favorably, considering that there was no regular surgeon on the ship; and by the time they reached port they were almost well again--ready to be transferred to the military hospital as convalescents.

Christmas was over, and the New Year had arrived, before they pa.s.sed Sable Island. But on the next day, they were in the long harbor, and pa.s.sing McNab, they saw in the distance the little city of Halifax.

CHAPTER VIII.

Helen stood on deck, wrapped in seal coat and gauntlets, looking at the snow-covered town as the _North King_ sailed up the harbor. Many vessels were already anch.o.r.ed. The bright winter sun showed to advantage the picturesque little city. The dazzling whiteness of the roofs, the varied contours of the houses, the glittering pinnacles of church spires, the little groves of naked trees, backed by the ever-green verdure of pines and cedars, all helped to make an interesting picture.

Most of the buildings were of wood, many being simple log cabins; while others were block-houses of more pretentious mien, whose timbers had been hewn into shape in the forest. Here and there a more stately dwelling, built of granite boulders or lime-stone rock, mingled with the rest.

What added much to the weird picturesqueness of the outlook, as Helen gazed upon it, was the glitter of icicles from many of the roofs, as the dazzling sunlight fell upon them. Then there was the far-reaching canopy of snow; while over beyond the houses were hills and craggy rocks and clumps of trees; and back of all, as distant as eye could see, the wide, interminable forest.

"How strange!" she exclaimed, drawing closer to her husband. "I never thought it would be like this."

"But is it not beautiful?" he asked.

"Yes; still it looks like a little town at the very end of the world,"

said Helen, with a shiver. "Pretty indeed, but where are the Indians? Is that the Citadel?"

"Yes, that is the Citadel. Although I see no Indians, there are the red-coats. Look! yonder is a company at drill."

"Ah! that is more natural! It makes me like it better. How wonderful it all is!"

Suddenly a violent gust of wind carried the snow in drifts from the roofs of the houses. A grey cloud swept over the sun, and for a brief s.p.a.ce the glittering whiteness of the prospect was over. Gradually the ship neared the wharf, and protected by heavy sticks of timber hanging over its side, it ground against the big bulwarks, and with huge ropes was made fast to the dock.

Colonel Mason and his staff were waiting for them; and no sooner had the gangway been laid than they came on board to welcome the officers of the big warship, as well as the men of the 100th Regiment. Those were not days of Atlantic cables and telegraphic dispatches; and although word had been received by the last ship from Liverpool that Sir George Head was coming out with a small body of troops, the exact date of departure was not announced.

"Right welcome!" exclaimed Colonel Mason, as he shook Sir George and Captain Osborne by the hand. "Long expected, but here at last."