As soon as we hoisted the colors, the schooner hoisted English colors also.

“English colors, sir!” said the mate, grinning.

“English colors, heh?  Very well; but that may be a feint—­keep to your guns, my lads.”

The vessel now ran by us; she was deeply laden, and as broad as she was long.

“No privateer this time, captain,” said Bramble, laughing.

“No, all’s right; secure the guns, my lads.  We’d have given her a nice peppering if she’d been a French privateer.”

The captain then went down below to put away his sword and pistols, which the cabin-boy had brought on deck.

“It’s my opinion, Tom,” said Bramble, “that this skipper ain’t quite so fond of fighting as he pretends to be.  I’ll see if I can’t frighten him a little.”

As soon as the captain came on deck again, Bramble said, “We’ll go about, if you please.”

“What! about already? why, we’re good three leagues from the shore.”

“Yes, sir, but the tide has made, and we must now make a long stretch-out toward the French coast.  We won’t tack again till about dark.”

“Not tack till dark, pilot?  Surely we will do better keeping on the English coast.”

“No, no, sir; if we were not so well manned and so well armed I should do it; but, as we are a match for any privateer, why, we may as well make a long leg—­we shall be up Channel sooner.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say.  I’ve a heavy responsibility with such a valuable cargo.”

“Well, tack if you please, sir,” said Bramble, shortly.

“Oh, certainly.  Hands, about ship.”

The vessel’s head was put off-shore, and with a smart breeze we walked away fast from the land.  At twelve o’clock the captain proposed standing inshore again, but Bramble refused.  At three o’clock he became very uneasy, and expostulated with Bramble, who replied, “Well, sir, I’m doing all for the best, but if you are afraid—­”

“Afraid?” cried the captain; “afraid of what, I should like to know?  No, I’m not afraid, but it appears to me that we ought to make the land again before night.”

“I’ll answer for knowing where we are, sir, if that is your reason; at all events, I wish to stand out till six o’clock.”

“Well, do so, then, if you choose—­I’m sure I don’t care if you stand to within gunshot of the French coast;” and the captain, evidently very much annoyed, went down into the cabin.

About half-past four o’clock the mate came aft and took up the glass, saying that there was an awkward-looking craft on the weather bow.  He came aft again, and said, “Pilot, I wish you would take a squint at that craft, for I don’t much like the look of her.”

Bramble went forward, and I followed him.  “I say, Tom, that’s a French privateer, as sure as we stand here,” said he.  “Look at her.  Well, now we shall see what these guns are made of.”

“Don’t put too much trust in them,” said the mate.  “I know what sort of people we have here.  Had we only ten good men I wouldn’t care for a privateer, but I’m afraid that we have not many we can trust to.  However, we’ll do our best, and we can do no more.  I’ll go down and tell the captain.”