All was now preparation.

When morning dawned, after a sleepless night, it was seen that the
stranger was crowding on all sail to come out of the harbour and
offer battle. As the two ships came nearer to each other, the
stranger fired a gun and hoisted Roman colours. Boldheart then
perceived her to be the Latin-grammar master's bark. Such indeed
she was, and had been tacking about the world in unavailing
pursuit, from the time of his first taking to a roving life.

Boldheart now addressed his men, promising to blow them up if he
should feel convinced that their reputation required it, and giving
orders that the Latin-grammar master should be taken alive. He
then dismissed them to their quarters, and the fight began with a
broadside from 'The Beauty.' She then veered around, and poured in
another. 'The Scorpion' (so was the bark of the Latin-grammar
master appropriately called) was not slow to return her fire; and a
terrific cannonading ensued, in which the guns of 'The Beauty' did
tremendous execution.

The Latin-grammar master was seen upon the poop, in the midst of
the smoke and fire, encouraging his men. To do him justice, he was
no craven, though his white hat, his short gray trousers, and his
long snuff-coloured surtout reaching to his heels (the self-same
coat in which he had spited Boldheart), contrasted most
unfavourably with the brilliant uniform of the latter. At this
moment, Boldheart, seizing a pike and putting himself at the head
of his men, gave the word to board.

A desperate conflict ensued in the hammock-nettings, - or somewhere