The _Ferdinand_ was a gun-brig that, on the morning of the 12th of June '97, had saucily fired at the _Tonneraire_, then shown her a clean pair of heels. She was near to the port of T----, so could afford to be insolent. Jack sent a fifty-six pound shot tearing through her rigging, without doing much damage, on which the _Ferdinand_ fired again from her stern. Only a puff of white smoke, only a ten-pound shot, with a sound withal like that of a boy's pop-gun. But it was enough. Jack's Highland blood was up; and he said to M'Hearty, who was near him on the poop, "I'll have her, if only for her insolence." M'Hearty laughed. It was not polite; but he couldn't help it. For the doctor and captain of the _Tonneraire_ were the dearest friends. "You've been much livelier and happier within this last month or two," said M'Hearty. "Tell me, sir, are you in love?" "What would you do if I were?" "Nothing, Captain Jack. I've got pills to cure melancholy; but for love, well, I never had it myself, so I shouldn't know what to do. But--may you be happy." It was very dark that night when the _Tonneraire_ stole silently back. She hauled her main-yard aback, and five armed boats, under command of Tom, were despatched to cut the saucy Frenchman out. The oars were muffled, and there was not a glimmer of light permitted to shine anywhere about the ship. The captain of marines and Murray both went in different boats, and on this occasion M'Hearty himself. The great fellow said he wanted to stretch his legs and swing his arms about a bit. "Don't get shot, anyhow, doctor," said Jack. "My clear Captain Mackenzie, I'm positively bulletproof." Young Murray was in high glee. He put on white gloves for the occasion. M'Hearty left his sword on board, and his coat and hat, and positively entered the boat bareheaded, in his shirt sleeves, and armed with a cutlass. "Nobody will see me," he said to Jack. "I'll be bound they'll feel you," laughed the captain of marines. This was as pretty a cutting-out action as ever I have heard of. Feeling sure of their safety, the Frenchmen were careless in their watch. The officers were wining and playing cards down below, when suddenly there was a shout, and a rattle and bump and rush. Hardly had the bugle, that awakened echoes from the walls of the fort, sung out to summon the crew to repel boarders, ere our fine fellows were on board. Stern was the resistance made, however, to the British tars. Big M'Hearty had boarded on the port-bow, and came flailing away aft. He knew nothing of sword-exercise, but simply grasped the cutlass, a huge one, by both hands, and hammered away in old Highland fashion. But a Frenchman fell at every blow. Murray fought like a little lion, but was knocked under a gun, and lay like a dead thing till all the fight was over, and long after. Yes, they were victorious. "Better go back to your cards and wine," shouted M'Hearty, as he drove the last officer down below.