The men were delighted with the privateer, the accommodation being so vastly superior to a vessel of war. The weather was remarkably beautiful, with smooth water and light breezes. As Lieutenant Thornton and his midshipman, Master Burdett, sat at dinner, the latter said— “Would not you like, sir, to try the merits of this fine craft? I’m sure she would beat anything afloat.” “I dare say she would, Master Burdett; but, having a certain object in view, I must not get out of the direct line of the port of Havre. I intend standing in, towards evening. We are short-handed and lightly armed; and, though all the guns are below, we could not work more than we have on deck. Besides, I do not think, under present circumstances, I should be justified in seeking an action with an enemy; if forced into one it’s another thing.” “Sail to the westward, sir,” cried Bill Saunders, down the cabin skylight; “large ship, seemingly.” Lieutenant Thornton hastened upon deck, joyfully followed by Master Burdett, who rejoiced in the hope of either a chase, a fight, or even being chased. Midshipmen are insatiable, and very mercurial kind of animals. On gaining the deck Lieutenant Thornton took his glass and regarded the stranger; her top-gallant sails only could be seen, and they were braced sharp on a wind. “That is a vessel of war, no doubt,” he coolly observed, “and by the cut of her top-gallant sails I should say French, standing in for Havre. We may readily pass for a French privateer; but if the captain hears, when he gets into Havre, about the cutting out of the Vengeance, he will come out again and look for us, and drive us off the coast, which would defeat my project. Cast off the fore-sheet, and let us get an offing till the stranger gets into port, if he is so bound.” “Ay, ay, sir!” said Bill, who acted as chief mate, “blow me if it ain’t a pity we bean’t in ship-shape—more guns and more men—we would soon stop that ere chap.” The Vengeance was now under weigh, with her full complement of sail, for the first time since captured; and the men looked over the side with many a remark upon the smooth and rapid way she went through the water. “She’s a clipper, Master Burdett,” said Lieutenant Thornton. “This is a light breeze, comparatively speaking; just take the small glass, and call one of the men aft, and see what we are making.” In a few minutes the log-line was overboard, Bill slacking the line and Master Burdett holding the glass. “Stop,” sang out Bill, and, looking at the marks, declared she was going nine knots. This was a surprising speed for the wind then blowing. “There be very few crafts, sir,” continued Bill, “that could hold their own with this here Vengeance; she’d laugh at a frigate in a light breeze.” “She always did Bill, even before her spars and sails were increased. You will see in half an hour we shall sink the stranger’s top-gallant sails.”