pared to meet it with the skill which marked his long and glorious career. I have said that his ships had easy communication with the shore. All along that shore, below his vessels, he had erected formidable batteries, had armed them with heavy guns, and manned them with those of his sailors who were most skilled in the art of gunnery. His own ships, covered by shoals and by sunken rocks, the navigation amongst which was difficult, had been so placed as to be able to meet with a concentrated fire an advancing enemy. The Indiaman he had taken, the Ceylon, had likewise been heavily armed, and the command of her entrusted to one of the best officers at his disposal. Duperré had himself seen to every detail; he had that morning inspected every battery, said a cheery word to every officer, spoken to his captains of his plans and his hopes. Having done this, he waited, with a serene countenance and a bold heart, the advance of the English.
They came on — they too, dauntlessly, even jubilantly. But no sooner had they, sailing close together, arrived within range than the shore batteries opened upon them. The fire was tremendous and effective, but it did not check the onward progress of the British ships. The Iphigenia, in accordance with a previously-concerted plan, directed her course towards the Minerve, and opened on her so terrible a fire within half pistol-shot that she drove her out of the line. The Magicienne, a little ahead of the Iphigenia, was about to engage the Ceylon when she struck on a hidden rock and lay
