It was Flemming's first experience of a "wet" dock, and before very long he sincerely hoped it might prove his last. After a while Eric went below to escape the glare. He had not been in the cabin more than five minutes before a dull thud sounded on the deck over his head. Then came another thud, followed by others in quick succession, until Flemming realized that the _Olivette_ was being bombarded. Putting on his cap, the lad gained the well. Almost as soon as he stepped outside the cabin door a missile hit him on the head. Fortunately the thick sailor's cap with its white cap-cover mitigated the blow, but even then it was sufficient to make the lad wince. He quickly took in the situation. Ten or twelve ragged gamins were gathered on the edge of the quay, engaged in the pleasant and congenial task of hurling stones and cabbage-stalks upon the _Olivette's_ deck and raised cabin-top. "_Alles-vous-en!_" shouted Flemming. The boys retreated a few steps, but seeing that the Sea Scout made no attempt to follow up his advantage, they held their ground, jeering and redoubling their fire. Eric hardly knew what course to pursue. It was not good form to start scrapping on foreign soil. A jolly sound hiding, he reflected, would do the gamins a world of good, but there were the after results to be taken into consideration. If each of the aggressors went away and returned with two or three pals, the _Olivette_ would hardly be tenable under a terrific fusillade of stones and garbage. On the other hand, he could not allow the boat to be made into a sort of maritime Aunt Sally for the edification of a crowd of juvenile ruffians. He might have parleyed with them, or bribed them to go away quietly, but this method did not appeal to his British spirit. He was alone. Old Boldrigg was sleeping profoundly, quite oblivious to the tocsin sounding over his head. Springing ashore, Flemming rushed at his tormentors. They turned and fled incontinently, although several of them were bigger than Eric. He chased them for about fifty yards along the quay, and then returned to the _Olivette_. But the retreat was only temporary. The moment Flemming regained the deck the gamins returned, the number considerably augmented, while a crowd of men engaged in unloading a schooner ceased their work to watch and enjoy the scene. Flemming waited until the first missile of the renewed attack hurtled through the air, then he charged his assailants. Again the latter took to their heels, but Eric meant to see the business through this time. Overtaking and ignoring the smaller and weaker of the boys, he held on until he collared a tall, hulking fellow, who was one of the ringleaders. Applying a very effective arm-lock, Flemming made his captive accompany him to the _Olivette_. "Now I've found a hostage," thought Eric, as he deftly drew the lad's arms behind him and round the mast and lashed the wrists together. "They won't dare to hurl things on board now."