e Inn, was not surprised to find
several other seamen from Dunkirk and the neighboring seaports of
France. They greeted him warmly.

"To your health!" cried they, raising their glasses of wine. "To the
health of the bravest privateer in all of France."

Jean Bart was delighted. He smiled like a child, seated himself at
their table, and began to drink with these jovial men of the sea.

As he sat there, suddenly a paper was mysteriously shoved into his
hand. He did not see from whence it came, and, as he scanned its
contents, his face grew strangely pale.

"Beware of these fellows," he read. "They mean to kill you if you do
not do what they wish. Beware!"

Jean Bart soon regained his composure.

"Come! Let us go to the dining-room up-stairs," said the friend who
had first accosted him. "Come, my boys! We will there have far more
quiet!"

All moved for the door.

Jean Bart moved, also, but before he went up-stairs, he loosened his
sword-belt and cocked two pistols which he carried at his waist. He
was not surprised when he saw them lock the stout door as they entered
the room upon the second floor.

When they were all seated Jules Blanc arose. His face well exhibited
his dislike for the successful privateersman, Jean Bart.

"Now, my friend," said he, facing the man from Dunkirk, "we have you
here with a purpose. We wish you to know that we are determined that
you shall no longer go to sea and spoil our own business for us. You
have had enough success. We want you to withdraw and give some one
else a chance."

Jean Bart smiled.

"We think that you should retire for we want some pickings for
ourselves."

"And if I refuse?" queried Jean Bart.

Jules Blanc placed his hand instantly upon his sword-hilt.

"Then--there will be trouble!"

"Poof!" said Jean Bart.

As he spoke, all drew their rapiers.

"Again Poof!" said Jean Bart.

As he spoke, a thrust came from his right. He parried it, leaped upon
a chair, and stood there smiling.

Crack! There was the sound of a pistol and a bullet whizzed by his
ear.

Then there was a sudden and awful _Crash!_ The room was filled with
dust.

When the startled sea-dogs looked about them Jean Bart no longer stood
upon the table. He had disappeared through the window. And broken
glass with splintered fastenings was all that remained of the once
perfect glazing.

"He has gone," said Jules Blanc. "Fellow seamen, we are outdone."

But Jean Bart was a quarter of a m