A minute had done it all.

Sixty seconds before the gallant vessel had lain apparently at the Frenchman's mercy.

Now the Frenchman was fastened inextricably, while the crowd upon deck stood as much exposed as if the galley were a raft.
Down swept the grape-shot, tearing ghastly passages through them.
They were near enough to be scorched by the flame of it.

Down and across it rent them, as they crouched and fought with each other to get away and hide.

There was no hiding.