On our arrival on board we found that the vessel was a Dutch Indiaman, which had been captured by one of our cruisers on her voyage home from Java.  She was laden very deeply with cinnamon, nutmegs, cloves, and other spices, besides pepper, and was valued at four hundred thousand pounds sterling.  She had come home from the island of St. Helena, with convoy, and was now proceeding up the river, to be given in charge of the prize agents in London.  Not only her hold, but even her main deck, as far aft as the mainmast, was filled up with her cargo; in short, she was a very valuable prize, and although when I came on board the pepper made me sneeze for ten minutes, the officer in charge told me very truly that she was a prize “not to be sneezed at.”  She was manned by a lieutenant and eighteen men belonging to the frigate which had captured her—­hardly sufficient for so large a vessel, but no more could be spared.

“We’ll up anchor as soon as you please, pilot,” said the lieutenant, “for I shall not be sorry to get rid of my charge, I assure you.”

“I don’t doubt you, sir,” replied Bramble.  “Well, you’ve not much further to go.”

We weighed with the young flood; the weather was fine, but, as usual at that time of the year, thick fogs prevailed.  We had, however, a leading wind, and had well rounded the North Foreland, and entered the Queen’s Channel, when it came on very thick.

“Tom, have you the bearings?” said Bramble; “if not, take them at once, for the fog will soon be over the land.”

“I have them,” replied I, “and we may as well put them down on the log-board—­North Foreland Light N.N.W. 1/4 W. Why, we should see the Tongue buoy.  Now we’ll drop the anchor and furl the sails, if you please, sir—­we can do nothing at present.”  We did so:  the fog came on thicker than before, and with it a drizzling rain and wind from the S. At dusk there was no change, or prospect of it.  The men went down to supper, and the watch was set.  Bramble and I did not turn in:  we lay down on the lockers of the cabin, and every now and then went on deck to see how the weather was.  About eleven o’clock we were awakened by a noise:  we both started up, and went on deck.  To our surprise it was full of men—­we had been boarded by a French privateer, and they had gained possession of the deck without any alarm being given, for the men who had the watch had sheltered themselves from the rain down the hatchway.  As soon as we came up, we were collared and seized.

“Pilot,” said Bramble.

“Pilot,” said I.

They then asked us in English how many men were on board.

As it was no use concealing the fact, we replied:  a portion of the privateer’s men then went down, and surprised them all in their beds.  In about five minutes they came up again, leading the lieutenant and his men, in their shirts.  By the directions of the French captain they were immediately passed over the side into the privateer, and Bramble and I were the only two Englishmen left on board of the ship.