But he used to send boats in and around the numerous islands on the coast of France to reconnoitre, and frequently they found something lying at anchor worth attacking. When, one forenoon, Tom Fairlie returned and reported a whole convoy of merchantmen lying at anchor under the protection of a frigate and the forts between the island of N---- and the mainland, Jack at once held a council of war, and it was resolved to attack after nightfall. On this occasion all the boats save one were needed, and the little expedition consisted of seven officers, over one hundred Seamen, and fifty marines. As usual, the boarding took place after dark. I need not describe the fight; it was fierce, brief, and terrible, but finally the frigate was captured. At this time very little wind was blowing, and a half-moon in the sky shed a sad but uncertain light upon the blood-slippery decks. And now a council of war was held to consider what had best be done. The destruction of the fleet of fifteen merchantmen, who as the tide was running out had grounded in shallow water, was imperative. It was determined, therefore, to leave a sufficient force of men on board the captured vessel, in case of an attempt on the part of the foe to regain their ship, and to proceed forthwith to burn the fleet. Tom Fairlie left four of his sturdiest mids and eighty men on board the frigate, and then left her. In less than half-an-hour every one of the merchantmen was well a-lit, the crews having already escaped in their boats. It was a strange and appalling sight. The flames were red and lurid, the green hills, the dark rocks, and the sands were lit up with a brilliancy as of noonday, while the rolling clouds of smoke, laden as thickly with sparks as the sky in a snowstorm, were carried far away southwards and seaward. But the light was dazzling, confusing; and before the bold sailors knew which way to steer, they ran aground. The tide, in ten minutes' time, left them high and dry. Guns from the forts, too, began to roar out; and to add to the terror of the situation, a company of soldiers was drawn up on the beach, and Tom's men began to fall, uncertain though their fire was. It was a trying situation; but Tom Fairlie was as cool as an old general. He descried that troops of marines, hundreds in fact, were being poured into the frigate, and that she seemed already recaptured. He resolved, therefore, to desert his boats and cross the bay, where lay a craft which could contain all his men. This was done at extraordinary hazard, Tom's men, though bearing their wounded with them, keeping up a running fire till the craft was reached. Luckily the soldiers had retired, but it took his men half-an-hour to get the little schooner into deep water. It was a sad though heroic story that Tom Fairlie had to tell when in the gray dawn of that summer's morning he rejoined his ship. Jack now made all sail southwards, to report proceedings to his admiral.