"Well, Tom, this is a bad job," said Bramble to me, taking his seat upon the hencoop aft. "By to-morrow noon, unless we fall in with a cruiser--and I see little chance of that--we shall be locked up in a French prison; ay, and Heaven knows how long we may stay there! What's to become of poor little Bessy? I'm sure I don't know. I must contrive to write over to lawyer Wilson, and put him in charge of everything. But I'm sorry for you, my poor lad; it's hard for you to be locked up, perhaps for years, when you might have been making money for yourself." "Well, it can't be helped, father; we must make the best of it," replied I, with a deep sigh, for I was anything but happy at the prospect. "If it had not been for that swaggering coward this might not have happened," replied Bramble. "It's somewhat my own fault. I was so anxious to frighten him about nothing that at last I run us into real danger, and I might have known that he never would have fought, although I certainly had no idea of falling in with a privateer. Well, Tom, we must not lose a chance." [Illustration: BRAMBLE AND JACK CARRIED INTO A FRENCH PORT.--Marryat, Vol X. p. 331.] "How do you mean?" "I mean that if there is any possibility of getting away, I shall; and you, of course, will not stay behind. I don't know where they are going to, but you see, Tom, our only chance of getting off is while we are on the coast; if once we are marched into the interior, why, then it will be almost hopeless. What we must try for is to get away at the port where we land. We shall see." "I am afraid that there's very little chance for us," replied I; "but I'm ready to attempt anything." "We shall see, Tom--where there's a will there's a way. However, it's no use talking about it just now." Here Bramble filled his pipe, took out his flint and steel, and lighted it. After smoking for ten minutes, during which I stood by him, he said, "I wonder where they will take us to--St. Malo's or Morlaix; for the course they are steering will fetch, I should think, thereabout. One thing is certain--they've got a good prize, and they mean to keep it if they can; and, my eyes! if they won't make a fuss about it! A ship with twelve guns taken by a lugger with only six! They'll make the ship mount eighteen or twenty guns, and have a hundred and fifty men on board, and they'll swear they fought us for three hours. They have something to boast of, that's certain; and I suspect that French captain is a brave sort of chap, from the sneer he gave when our cowardly English lubber gave him so fine a speech. Well, it's our disgrace!" Here Bramble was silent for some time, when I said to him, "You were stating to the men how a Leith smack beat off a privateer the other day. I never heard of it." "Yes, I heard it when I was up above Greenwich. I met an old friend who was on board of her, for he took his passage in her from London.