Finding such to be the case, the Vengeance was again hove to, whilst the crew still watched the course of the stranger. Presently they could see her topsails, and then our hero decidedly declared her to be a French frigate. Their fore and main lug were then lowered, and under her mizen and jib she kept pretty much in the same place, and as the sun went down they lost sight of the French ship, which evidently stood in for the port of Havre, without noticing them. Sail was then made, and they hauled in for the land. Lieutenant Thornton was in an extremely anxious state of mind; he was far from feeling sure that Jean Plessis would be able to carry out his plans. If he failed, it was terrible to think how many years might pass before he should be again blessed with the sight of his beloved Mabel. It was one consolation to him, however, to know that in the then state of France there was no fear of either cruel persecution or death. The government were anxious to wipe away that frightful stain that no time will ever obliterate from the pages of French history. Still, their youth might pass away, and their day-dreams of love and felicity fade, like almost everything else in this transitory and shifting globe. But young hope struggled in his breast, though some writer, we forget his name, declares, “We believe at once in evil, and never believe in good; but upon reflection this is sad. But we live in hope, and we never cease to indulge in hope to the last.” As they stretched in with the land to the westward of Havre, about the middle of the first watch, the man on the look-out sung out— “Sail ahead on the starboard bow!” Lieutenant Thornton, who was pacing the deck chatting to the young midshipman, went forward, and looking over the starboard bulwarks, perceived two vessels standing towards them; they were about a league off. One was a schooner, the other a large chasse-mare. They were making for Havre, and must have seen the Vengeance; but, as our hero imagined, mistook her for a French vessel, for no British cruisers or privateers were lugger rigged. The chasse-mare was nearly as large in tonnage as the Vengeance, though not near so long. In ten minutes, as they were then steering, they would be alongside each other. “I’m blessed if that schooner ain’t an English one,” said Bill Saunders to a messmate, as they stood regarding the two vessels.