A score and a half of men were lost over this piece of work.

However, the forecastle was carried at last by means of it; and the prisoners were brought on deck--among them Captain Runacles, with his right hand disabled.
"Are you the gallant captain of this frigate ?" asked M.de la Pailletine, doffing his hat; for as yet he had received no sword in token of the _Merry Maid's_ surrender.
"No, sir," Captain Runacles answered; "I have the honour to be his lieutenant." "He is killed, perhaps ?" "I fancy not." "Then where is he ?" "Excuse me, monsieur, it strikes me he has yet to be taken." "But the ship is ours!" "Well, monsieur, you have hauled down our colours and I can't deny it.

But as for the frigate, I doubt if you can call it yours just yet." "What do you mean, sir ?" "Why, simply that you have not yet taken Captain Barker; and excuse me if, knowing Captain Barker better than you can possibly do, I warn you that that part of the ship which he sees fit to occupy at this moment will probably be dangerous for some time to come." As if to corroborate his words, at this moment the hush which had fallen upon the frigate's deck was broken by the report of a firearm, and two French grenadiers rushed upon deck from below and came forward hurriedly, one with a hand clapped to a wound in his shoulder.
"That," said Captain Runacles, "is probably Captain Barker.

There is a shutter to his cabin door." "But this is trivial," exclaimed the French Commodore, frowning.
"If Monsieur will excuse me, it is scarcely so trivial as it looks.

Captain Barker is within ten paces of the powder-magazine.
Moreover, between him and the powder-magazine there is a door." M.de la Pailletine jumped in his shoes.