"I'm sure we're not going to be taken, and lose the ship and our cargo, and be made prisoners and ruined without having a fight for it," answered Gerald, "especially as Owen says that he feels pretty sure she is a privateer. Why he thinks so, I can't quite make out, except that her masts rake more than those of most men-of-war and her sails are cut somewhat differently--it is impossible to be certain." "Grant Heaven that, if there is a fight, our father and you and Owen may be preserved!" murmured Norah. "They wouldn't fight without a good hope of success--but we must run our chance," said Gerald, laughing; "but, you know, we shall stow you down in the hold among the cargo safe enough." "Oh no, no! I hope if there is a fight that I may be allowed to remain on deck, or at least in the cabin, where I may be ready to help any who are hurt," exclaimed Norah. "That would never do," answered Gerald; "you might be hit as well as anybody else, and you wouldn't like to have a leg or an arm shot off." Poor Norah shuddered at the thoughtless remark of her brother. Gerald observed the expression of her countenance. "I didn't intend to frighten you," he said; "I hope that none of us will be hurt--only of course there's a risk, and we must save you from being exposed to it. We shall only make a running fight of it, and try to knock away some of the enemy's spars and prevent her from following us. If she were to come up with us, she is so much bigger than we are, and so much more heavily armed, with probably six times as many hands, that we should have no chance in a broadside fight." "If we are captured what will happen?" asked Norah. "I suppose we shall be carried into a French port, and be kept prisoners till the war is over, and you and I must learn to talk French. It won't be so very bad, after all, so you needn't look so grave, Norah," answered Gerald. "It will break our poor father's heart, I fear," answered Norah, "and Owen will be miserable." "Well, then, though wishing it won't exactly help us, we'll hope to escape, and that none of the dreadful things you expect will happen," said Gerald. Though Gerald made light of the matter, others on board did not do so. From the first Owen had had little doubt that the ship chasing them was French. The captain differed from him, but agreed that she was probably a privateer. Though her masts raked, so did those of many British ships, especially of those sailing from Jersey and Guernsey, while there was nothing that he could see remarkable about the cut of her sails. The second mate expressed no opinion. After a time, however, a cloud was seen to gather on his brow. "I thought you boasted of this craft being remarkably fast," he observed to Owen. "Now, as far as I can judge, that ship yonder is sailing nearly two feet to our one, and will be within hail of us before dark."