_Duty Wins the Game_ A booming roar came down upon them from the frigate, which had fired a broadside, which was followed presently by the whistling of shot over their heads.

Great rents were seen in the canvas, pieces of running gear fell to the deck, there was a crashing, rending sound, and a part of the rail, left standing abaft the mizzen shrouds, smashed into splinters and drove inboard under the impact of a heavy shot.
One splinter struck the man at the helm in the side; he fell with a shriek, and lay white and still by the side of the wheel, which, no longer restrained by his hand, spun round madly.

Another splinter hit the sword of Talbot, breaking the blade and sweeping it from his hands, and the unlucky scrap of paper was blown into the sea.

The spanker sheet was cut in two, and the boom swept out to windward, knocking one of the men overboard.

There was neither time nor opportunity to pick him up, and he went to his death unheeded.
Seymour dropped his sword, every instinct of a sailor aroused, and sprang to the horse-block.