The Winslow mail., 1897-03-13
THE SLAPPING SAL
By CONAN DOYLE.

deck guns. Brace back the yards, Mr..
Smeaton, and stand by to go about
when she has way enough.
Round the curve of the estuary was
coming a huge vessel. Her great yellow
bowsprit and white winged figurehead
were jutting out from the cluster of
palm trees. while high above them tow
cred three immense masts, with the tri
color flag floating superbly from the
mizzen. Round she came, the deep blue
water creaming under her forefoot, un-
til her long, curving, black side, her line
of shining copper beneath and of snow
white hammocks above and the thick
clusters of men who peered over her
bulwarks were all in full view.
Her lower yards were slung, her
ports tr:ced up and her long guns run
out all ready for action. Lying behind
one of the promontories of the island
the lookout men of the Gloire upon the
shore had seen the cul de sac into which
.thGs3ritish frigate had headed, so that
FCartain de Milon had observed the
Leda as Captain johnson had the Slap
ping Sal.
But the splendid discipline of the
British service was at its best in such a
crisis. The boats flew back, their crews
clustered aboard, they were swung up
at the davits and the fall ropes made
fast. Hammocks were brought up and
slowed, bulkbeads sent down, ports and
magazines opened, the fires put out in
the galley, and the drums beat to quar-
tiers. Swarms of men set the headsails
and brought the frigate round, while
the gun crews threw off their jackets
and shirts, frightened their belts and ran
out their IS Founders, peering through
the open portfolios at the stately French
man. The wind was very light. Hardly
a ripple showed itself upon the clear
blue water, but the sails blew gently
out as the breeze came over the wooded
banks. The Frenchman had gone about
also, and both ships were now heading
slowly for the sea under fore and aft
canvas, the Gloire 1000 yards in adj
vance. She luffed up to cross the Le-
da's bows, but the British ship came
round also, and the two rippled slowly
on in such a silence that the ringing of
the ramrods as the French marines
drove home their charges changed quite
loudly upon the ear.
''Not much sea room, Mr. Wharton" F"
remarked the captain.
81 have fought actions in less, sir.
eve must keep our distance and trust
to our gunnery. She is very heavily
manned, and if she got alongside we
might find ourselves in trouble. %
II see the shakos of soldiers aboard
of her, two companies of light infantry
from Martinique Now we have herl
Hard a-port and let her have it as we
cross her sternP'
The keen eye of the little commander
had seen the surface ripple which told
of a passing breeze. He had used it to
dart across behind the big Frenchman
and to rake her with every gun as he
passed. But once past her the Leda had
to come back into the wind to keep out
of shoal water The maneuver brought
her on the starboard side of the French
man, and the trim little frigate seemed
to heel right over under the crashing
y broadside which burst from the gaping
ports A moment later her topmen were
swarming aloft to set her topsails and
royals, and she strove to cross the
Gloire's bows and rake her again. The
French captain, however, brought his
frigate's head round, and the two rode
side by side within easy pistol shot,
pouring broadsides into each other in
one of those murderous duels which,
could they all be recorded, would mot
tie our charts with blood
In that heavy tropical air, with so
faint breeze, the smoke formed a thick
bank round the two vessels from which
the topmasts only protruded. Neither
could see anything of its enemy save
the throbs of FIRE in the darkness, and
the guns were sponged and trained and
fired into dense wall of vapor. On
the poop and the forecastle the marines,
in two little red lines, were pouring in
their volleys, but neither they nor the
seamen gunners could see what effect
their fire was having Nor indeed could
they tell how far they were suffering
themselves, for standing at a gun one
could but hazily see that upon the right
and left. But above the roar of the can
non came the sharper sound of the pip
ing shot, the crashing of riven planks
and the occasional heavy thud as spar
or block came hurting onto the deck.
The lieutenant paced up and down be-
hind the line of guns, while Captain
johnson famed the smoke away with
his cooked hat and peered eagerly out.
''This is rare Bobby" said he as the
lieutenant joined him, then suddenly
restraining himself, "What have we
lost, Mr.. Wharton?"
''Our main topsail yard and our gaff,
sir.
where's the fiag?"
"Gone overheard, sir. 4"
''They'n think we've struck. Lash a
boats ensign on the starboard arm of
the mizzen cross backyard. -
Eyes, sir. "
a round shot dashed tho pinnacle to
pieces between them. A second knocked
two marines into a bloody, palpitating
mass For a moment the smoke rose,
and the English captain saw that his
adversary heavier metal was produc
ing a horrible effect. The Leda was a
shattered wreck. Her deck was strewn
with corpses Several of her portfolios
were knocked into one, and one of her
IS FOUNDER guns had been thrown right
back onto her breech and pointed
straight up to the sky The thin line of