They hove us a line out of the gangway at once, the mate got up her side as she rolled gently over, and I followed him: the scene that met our eyes as soon as we reached her deck, however, struck me a good deal on various accounts. We couldn't at first see where Mr Rollock and his party might be, for the shadow of a thick awning after the glare of the water, and the people near the brig's gangway--but I saw two or three dark-faced, very French-like individuals, in broad-brimmed straw hats and white trousers, seemingly passengers; while about twenty Kroomen and Negroes, and as many seamen with unshaven chins, ear-rings, and striped frocks, were in knots before the longboat, turned keel up amidships, careless enough, to all appearance, about us. One of the passengers leant against the mainmast, with his arms folded over his broad chest, and his legs crossed, looking curiously at us as we came up; his dark eyes half closed, the shadow of his hat down to his black mustache, and his shirt-collar open, showing a scar on his hairy breast; one man, whom I marked for the brig's surgeon, beside him; and another waiting for us near the bulwarks--a leathery-faced little fellow, with twinkling black eyes, and a sort of cocked hat fore-and-aft on his cropped head. "_Moi_, Monsieur," said he, slapping his hand on his breast as the mate looked about him, "oui, je suis capitaine, monsieur." "Good-day, sir;" said Stebbing, "we've just come aboard for our passengers--and the gig--sir, if you please." "Certainement, monsieur," said the French skipper, bowing and taking a paper from his pocket, which he handed to the mate, "I comprind, sare--monsieur le capitaine d' la fregatte Anglaise, il nous demande nos--vat you call,--_peppares_--voilà! I have 'ad le honneur, messieurs, to be already sarch by vun off vos _crusoes_--pour des _esclaves_! vous imaginez _cela_, messieurs!" and here the worthy Frenchman cast up his hands and gave a grin which seemed meant for innocent horror. "_Slaifs! chez_ le brigantin Louis Bourbon, Capitaine Jean Duprez? _Non!_" said he, talking away like a windmill, "de Marseilles à l'Isle de France, avec les vins choisis----" "You mistake, monsieur," said I, in French; "the ship is an Indiaman, and we have only come for our _friends_, who are enjoying your wine, I daresay, but we must----" "Comment?" said he, staring, "_what_, monsieur? have de gotness to----" Here the mustached passenger suddenly raised himself off the mast, and made one stride between us to the bulwarks, where he looked straight out at the Indiaman, his arms still folded, then from us to the French master. He was a noble-looking man, with an eye I never saw the like of in any one else, 'twas so clear, bold, and prompt,--it actually went _into_ you like a sword, and I couldn't help fancying him in the thick of a battle, with thousands of men and miles of smoke. "Duprez," said he, quickly, "je vous le dis encore--debarquez ces miserables!--nous _combattrons_!" "Then, mon