"Now don't, till the action's over," said Gerald, getting ready to make his exit from the berth; "then, if the enemy's shot hasn't taken either of our heads off, you'll be welcome to do what you like--if you can catch me--and I don't intend that you should do that same just now;" and Gerald sprang through the doorway out of reach of the irate old mate. The other members of the berth talked over the probabilities of the expected fight. One and all were ready enough for it, especially two or three who had never yet seen a shot fired in anger; they having but little conception of what the result of a hard-fought action would be, even should they prove victorious. As soon as the _Champion_ got within signalling distance of the commodore, Captain Olding reported three sail of the enemy in sight. On this the _Thisbe_ hoisted a signal to the _Druid_ to join her, while the merchant vessels were directed to keep together and to stand on as they were steering. The three men-of-war now hauled up a little, the sooner to meet the enemy, the _Champion_ being to windward of the frigates. "Old Blowhard expects that the enemy will take us for the advanced frigates of a large fleet, and will probably think it wiser to keep out of our way than to come nearer," observed Captain Olding to his first lieutenant, "Though we should beat them, we should gain but little by an action." "I agree with you, sir. I never fancied fighting for barren glory, I confess," said Mr Tarwig; "and as our first duty is to defend our convoy, I conclude that the commodore will be satisfied if we can beat off the enemy." "We may hope to do that, even though the _Champion_ will be somewhat overmatched; but I can trust to the ship's company to do their duty," said the captain, in a firm tone. "Clear the ship for action, Mr Tarwig."