Even the guns from shore had ceased to fire for a brief space, as though the gunners were watching the weird spectacle of the illuminated fog, or were perhaps afraid lest their fire should hurt their own comrades in the boats.

But the English sailors took advantage of the lull to set to their task of towing the Bienfaisant with hearty goodwill.
"She moves! she moves!" cried Humphrey excitedly, standing at the wheel to direct her course.

"Well pulled, comrades--well pulled indeed! Ah, their guns are going to speak again! They will not let us go without a parting salute." The batteries on shore opened their mouths, and belched forth flame and smoke.

The ship staggered beneath the leaden hail; but the guns were too high to do mischief to the boats upon the water, and the sailors replied by a lusty cheer.

Julian wiped away a few drops of blood that trickled down his face from a slight cut on his temple; but for the most part the shot struck only the spars and rigging, whistling harmlessly over the heads of the men on deck, who laughed and cheered as they encouraged their comrades in the boats to row their hardest and get beyond reach of the enemy's fire.
Wolfe had planted a battery himself just lately which commanded a part of the harbour, and beneath this sheltering battery the Bienfaisant was towed, whilst the sailors cheered might and main; and once out of reach of the enemy's fire, rested on their oars and watched the grand illumination of the flame-wrapped Prudent.
"If war is a horrible thing," said Julian reflectively to Humphrey, "it has at least its grand sights.