“’Xpect I have,” replied my father.  “Well, old chap, I’ll just wet my whistle, and then I’ll tell you all about it, and it won’t take long, neither.  The boats were ordered away—­”

“Of what ship, messmate?”

“Very true, I began in the middle.  Well, it was in the ship I now belongs to, the ’Oudacious’—­we were with the squadron off Ferrol; signal made to chase southeast—­clapped every stitch on her after two gun-boats who were running down in-shore.  Light winds—­got well in for the land, and then it fell calm.  Gun-boats four miles off using their sweeps—­our boats in chase—­I was coxswain of the first pinnace—­a devilish fast boat, messmate, I can tell you, with a smart brass gun—­pulled two feet to their one, and came up with them hand-over-hand—­both cutters and the other pinnace well up with us—­the old launch half a mile astern.  Now you see, sir, I’ve got the picture for you, haven’t I?”

“Just exactly,” replied old Ben.

“Well, then, it was a long pull; and that reminds me that I’ll have a long pull now, so hand me the porter, messmate.”  My father took a tremendous long pull at the pewter, and then handing it to Ben, he recommenced: 

“We were soon within gun-shot, and they turned their heads toward us and blazed away:  very pretty shot they fired, for they cut away three of our starboard oars before we were near enough to return the fire with our small gun.  However, the second pinnace and cutters came up and shared the shot with us; and at last the old fat launch came grunting along, for all the world like an old board, pitching into them round and grape.  Now the first lieutenant was in the launch, and, of course, commanded, and he ordered the boats to separate more, which was very right, as it divided the shot; and then he passed the word that when he sounded the bugle we were all to pull to the headmost gun-boat and board her.  D’ye understand, messmate?”

“Perfectly,” replied Ben, taking his pipe out to reply.

“Well, then, just hand me the pot.”  My father drained it this time, and told me to go for another.

“Then I shall lose the story,” replied I.

“No, boy, you won’t,” replied Ben; “I’ll answer for it your father will heave-to till you come back.”

“So I will, Jack,” replied my father.  And having with every expedition executed my task, my father then continued: 

“Well, there we all were, waiting for the bugle, each boat creeping on a little every moment, so as to have a fair start, as they do in a race; when at last the signal was given, and away we all went like smoke, with our oars bending double.  The first pinnace reached the gun-boat first; then the cutters banged alongside of her—­all three of us to windward—­while the second pinnace and launch took her to leeward.  There’s not much climbing in getting on board of a gun-boat; indeed, we were at it before we were out of the boat, for the Frenchmen had pikes as long as the spanker-boom;