It was not, however, until they had rounded Ushant that any British vessel came near enough to cause them uneasiness. There were two large frigates cruising backwards and forwards off Brest, and a brig-of-war came within shot, as they were doubling Penmarch Point. "There is plenty of water for her, here," the skipper said. "However, she will hardly catch us, before we are under shelter of the batteries of Quimper." "I should have thought that she would hardly think you worth the trouble of chasing." "It may be that they think we are carrying fresh meat from Saint Malo to Nantes. There is a good deal of trade that way, this time of year, when meat will keep good for a week. Or it may be that they want to get news of what ships there are in Brest. However, it is certain that he is in earnest; he is politely requesting us to lower our sails." He laughed as a puff of white smoke broke out from the brig and, a second or two later, a ball dashed up the water fifty yards ahead of them. The emotions with which Patsey and Leigh watched the brig differed much from those of the captain. They would gladly have seen the lugger overhauled and captured, but they soon saw that there was little chance of this. The lugger was a fast boat, the wind just suited her, and the brig fell farther and farther astern until, as the former entered the bay of Quimper and laid her course north, the brig hauled her wind and turned to rejoin the vessels off Brest. Keeping close to the land, they passed L'Orient and Quiberon and Vannes without stopping, and did not drop anchor again until they entered the bay on the eastern side of the island of Noirmoutier. The next day they passed out through the narrow channel of Froment, and had gone between the island and the mainland, for a distance of two miles, when they saw a large brig making in towards the shore. "Another of those cruisers," the captain exclaimed. "This is more serious, for there is no bay we can run into, and the fellow is bringing the wind down with him. Our only chance is to anchor under the guns of Saint Jean des Montes; we shall be lucky if we get there in time." The brig came up fast, and was within a mile when the lugger caught the wind; then running along rapidly she held her own until off Saint Jean, when she ran in as close as her draught would permit, and anchored. Two French privateers were already lying in there, one having dropped anchor only a few minutes before the Trois Freres arrived. "I expect it was that fellow that the brig was in chase of, and I am not by any means sure that we have done with her, yet. They are as likely as not to try to cut out one, if not both, of these privateers. Of course it would look like madness, with the guns of that battery on the height protecting them, but they have done such things so often that one can never say that one is altogether safe from them."