One morning after this conversation, Sir Sidney Smith received orders from Sir John Borlais Warren, who commanded the force, to proceed with the Diamond, and have a look into Brest harbour. This order aroused the spirits and energies of the frigate’s crew, because there was considerable risk in the undertaking. Anything but an inactive life for a British sailor. The Diamond was accordingly disguised as much as possible, so as to resemble a French frigate. With the wind blowing due east, the frigate commenced beating up for the entrance, and as it approached, the crew could perceive three French ships of war, also working up to windward. As the day declined, Sir Sidney made up his mind to anchor, so as to be able to take advantage of the next flood tide. The frigate therefore let go her anchor between Porte St. Matthew and the Bec-du-Rez. Distant about two miles from them was perceived a large ship, and nearer to the Bec-du-Rez lay a remarkable looking vessel, lugger-rigged. The moment William Thornton turned his glass upon this last-mentioned vessel, he said aloud:— “By Jove! that’s her.” “What is it, Thornton?” inquired Sir Sidney, coming to his side. “I am sure I know that lugger, Sir Sidney,” replied our hero. “The light is fading away fast, still I am positive that vessel is the famous privateer, the Vengeance; the craft we fought when in the Babet, and when we took the Bon-Citoyen schooner.” “The deuce it is! I have heard a great deal of that lugger, which seems to defy all our cruisers, and has taken a number of prizes. I wish it were possible to cut her out, but we should be detected by that man-of-war close alongside her.” “We should have taken her, sir, the time we were engaged with her and the schooner,” said our hero, “but for the dense fog; as it was, we knocked her main-mast out of her. The crew of the Bon-Citoyen said she belongs to Havre and that there’s not a craft afloat can touch her.” “A very vain-glorious boast,” said Sir Sidney; “we may chance to catch hold of the fellow some day or other. We must be under weigh by eleven o’clock, for the flood-tide will have made by that time.” “There’s another large ship, sir, further up; but she is not distinctly visible, being partly behind the point.” “Oh, we will have a look at her,” returned Sir Sidney. By twelve o’clock the Diamond was again under weigh, and, with easy sail, continued working up the noble inlet forming the many harbours designated as Brest. On nearing the ship at anchor, they could make her out to be a ship of the line; still they created no suspicion. “By my conscience,” said O’Loughlin to our hero, as they paced the deck, “we are making free and easy with the enemy’s port; if that big fellow yonder only knew who we were, wouldn’t it wake him out of his sleep!”