A hail-storm of aerial combustion descended and slanted on the Serapis, while horizontal thunderbolts rolled crosswise through the subterranean vaults of the Richard.

The belligerents were no longer, in the ordinary sense of things, an English ship and an American ship.

It was a co-partnership and joint-stock combustion-company of both ships; yet divided, even in participation.
The two vessels were as two houses, through whose party-wall doors have been cut; one family (the Guelphs) occupying the whole lower story; another family (the Ghibelines) the whole upper story.
Meanwhile, determined Paul flew hither and thither like the meteoric corposant-ball, which shiftingly dances on the tips and verges of ships' rigging in storms.

Wherever he went, he seemed to cast a pale light on all faces.

Blacked and burnt, his Scotch bonnet was compressed to a gun-wad on his head.