He feared for the life of his captain while he was standing, constantly offering himself to the shots of the enemy.
Ferragut was storming from side to side, cursing his lack of means for returning the aggression.

"This will never happen another time!...

They won't get another chance to amuse themselves chasing me!" A second projectile opened another breach in the poop.

"If it only won't hit the engines!" the captain was thinking.

After that the _Mare Nostrum_ received no more damage, the following shots merely raising up columns of water in the steamer's wake.