Two or three of the more decent of his followers were discussing the events of the night.
"Poor Joe!" said one.
"Yes, and Evans and Whitely too," was the reply.
"Ay, three dead, and nobody hurt for it," answered the other.
"You forget the old fellow at the landing, though." "Yes, he fought like the devil, and came near balking the whole game.
That was a lucky shot you got in, Davis, after Evans missed and was hit.

That fellow was a brave man--for a rebel," said the raider.
In the cabin of the sloop Colonel Wilton was sitting on one of the lockers, his arm around Katharine, who was leaning against him, weeping, her hands before her face.

Desborough was standing respectfully in front of them.
"And you say he made a good fight ?" asked the colonel, sadly.
"Splendid, sir.

We stole up to the boat-house with muffled oars, wishing to give no warning, and before he knew it half of us were on the wharf.

He challenged, we made a rush; he shot the first man in the breast and brained the next with his clubbed musket, shouting words of warning the while.