Vernon walked aft, saying as he did so: "You took the responsibility; do the best you can." "Very well, captain." On went the schooner until it was so close that the big Britisher seemed to shut out all view of the horizon. "Scarron! we are going to beat to quarters." "Sir! Mr. Tempest, sir!" "I said we were going to beat to quarters. Have you any objections?" "Seems to me we'll die within sight of New York anyway," muttered Scarron. "Very likely," Tempest calmly replied. "All the same, we shall fight that vessel." Instead of waiting for Scarron to give the order to the drummer, Tempest did it himself. No sooner had the roll of the drum been wafted across the waters than there was a change manifest in the attitude of the cruiser. The crew were now on the alert, and an answering roll of the drum told the little schooner that the Britisher accepted the challenge. It was perfectly safe to do so. What chance had a little privateer against a trim, well-built war cruiser? Tempest had the long gun loaded, and he took sight himself. The Britisher ran up the Union Jack as a defiance, an act answered by the raising of the Stars and Stripes. No one on board the cruiser had any idea that the privateer could carry so heavy a gun as a thirty-four-pounder. The gun was ready, the match applied. The _Lively Bee_ quivered and shook, but that was all. The shot tore through the rigging, plowing along the deck of the cruiser, and disabling or killing a dozen men. A broadside was fired, but the shots fell short of the _Lively Bee_. It was as Tempest thought--she had only light guns. One more shot was fired by the young lieutenant, and a hole was bored in the bow of the cruiser. "We have taught her a lesson, captain, but we cannot fight her." "No; what do you intend doing?" "The fleet is near." "I see; I think I understand." Captain Vernon walked down to his cabin, leaving all command in the hands of his young officer. "He has spunk, and I like him; he has grit and will pull through," he said, as he threw himself down on the seat. Tempest lowered the Stars and Stripes, and the Britisher took it, as he intended, as a sign of surrender. The cruiser now showed itself plainly, and its name, the _Belvidera_, was discernible through the glass. "I thought she was French," said Tempest. "What are you going to do, sir?" asked Scarron. "Surrender?" "No, sir. I shall never surrender until it is to Death. Give orders; let the _Lively Bee_ show her heels to the Britisher, quick, or we may get raked with shot." On sped the privateer, and the cruiser followed quickly after her. Then the _Lively Bee_ tacked, and the _Belvidera_ saw, when almost too late, that she had been led nearly within gunshot of Commodore Rodgers' flagship, the _President_. Both vessels began preparing for a test of skillful marksmanship, and for that most interesting of all engagements--a naval duel.