On his being first employed in the service, Captain Brenton felt the full amount of his responsibility, and the danger to which he was exposed; but after being frequently chased off the land by squadrons of ships of the line, and finding that they invariably left off chase by the time they had got seven or eight leagues from the port; and finding also that they seldom gained much if any thing upon the Spartan during that run; he became so accustomed to being chased, that it was considered a matter of common occurrence, and was unaccompanied by any anxiety. Upon one occasion, when about four miles from Cape Sepet, the entrance to the inner road of Toulon, blowing fresh from the N.W. several ships of the line were seen coming out, and the Spartan of course bore up; at this time, an unfortunate boy fell overboard, and it became necessary to lower a boat down to endeavour to save him, and the time thus occupied was one of the greatest possible anxiety, it was however employed in letting out reefs, and in every preparation to make sail. The boy had sunk, and by the time the boat had returned, the enemy were out of the roads, clear of Cape Sepet, and steering for the Spartan, scarcely more than a league distant; but no sooner was the boat out of the water, than the helm was up, and the ship under a cloud of sail; from this moment all anxiety vanished, and the enemy having run to the length of their tether, hauled their wind as usual. It was upon one of these occasions that Captain Brenton, sitting in his cabin, watching the enemy in chase of him with his spy glass, was informed by the first Lieutenant that a strange sail was seen on the starboard bow. “Steer for her,” said the Captain, “these fellows will leave off chase before we get up with her, and we may as well chase in our turn.” As he expected, the enemy gave up the pursuit, and the Spartan continuing her course for the stranger, came up with her in the course of the afternoon, and took her; she proved to be a very good prize.