“Can you make out her hull, Mr Forster?” cried Captain Oughton, hailing Newton, who was at the mast-head with a glass.

“No, sir; her fore-yard is but now clear of the water, but she rises very fast.”

“What do you think of her spars, Forster?” said Captain Oughton to Newton, who had just descended to the last rattling of the main-rigging.

“She is very taut, sir, and her canvas appears to be foreign.”

“I’ll bet you what you please it’s that d——­d fellow Surcoeuf.  This is just his cruising ground, if the report of that neutral vessel was correct.”

“Another hour will decide the point, sir,” replied Newton; “but I must say I think your surmise likely to prove correct.  We may as well be ready for him:  a cruiser she certainly is.”

“The sooner the better, Mr Forster.  He’s but a ‘rum customer,’ and ’a hard hitter’ by all accounts.  Clear up the decks, and beat to quarters.”

The strange vessel came down with such rapidity that, by the time the captain’s orders were obeyed, she was not more than two miles distant.

“There’s ’instudding-sails;’—­and in devilish good style too!” observed Captain Oughton.  “Now we shall see what he’s made of.”

The vessel rounded to the wind as soon as she had reduced her sails, on the same tack as the Windsor Castle, displaying her broadside, as the French would say, herissee de canons.

“A corvette, sir,” said Newton, reconnoitring through his glass; “two-and-twenty guns besides her bridle ports.  She is French rigged;—­the rake of her stern is French;—­in fact, she is French all over.”

“All Lombard Street to a China orange, ’tis Surcoeuf,” replied Captain Oughton, who, with the rest of his officers, had his glass upon the vessel.  “There goes the tricoloured flag to prove I’ve won my bet.  Answer the challenge.  Toss my hat up.—­Pshaw!  I mean hoist the colours there abaft.  Mr Thomas,” continued Captain Oughton, addressing the boatswain, “send the ship’s company aft.—­Forster, you had better see the ladies down below.”

At the summons of the boatswain, the men came aft, and stood in a body on the lee side of the quarter-deck, with their hats off, and impatience in their looks.

“Now, my lads,” said Captain Oughton, “if I am not mistaken, that vessel is commanded by the very best seaman that ever left a French port, and to do him justice, he’s a damnation fine fellow!—­a severe punisher, and can take a mauling as well as give one.”

“Yes, sir, so can we,” replied several of the men together.

“I know you can, my lads; and give and take is fair play.  All I say is, let it be a fair stand up fight, and ‘may the best man win.’  So now, my lads, if you’re ready to come to the scratch, why, the sooner we peel the better—­that’s all.”

“Hurrah!” cried the seamen, as they separated to their quarters; and, in compliance with the injunctions of the captain, threw off their jackets, and many of them their shirts, to prepare for the conflict.