a tartar.

The blood was up of the "Man from St. Malo." "I consider the shot
across my bows as an attack," said he, and he slapped on every stitch
of canvas, so that the _Emilie_ was soon abreast of the Britisher.
_Boom!_ A broadside roared into her and she struck her colors. Bold
Robert Surcouf had passed the Rubicon,--he had seen the English flag
lowered to him, for the first time; and his heart swelled with
patriotic pride, in spite of the fact that this was an act of piracy,
for which he could be hanged to the yard-arm.

"On! On!" cried Surcouf. "More captures! More prizes!"

Three days later three vessels carrying rice fell into his hands,--one
of which,--a pilot-brig--was appropriated in place of the _Emilie_,
which had a foul, barnacled bottom and had lost her speed. The
_Diana_, another rice-carrier--was also captured--and Robert Surcouf
headed for the Mauritius: pleased and happy.

A few days later, as the vessels pottered along off the river Hooghly,
the cry came:

"A large sail standing into Balasore Roads!"

In a moment Surcouf had clapped his glass to his keen and searching
eye.

"An East Indiaman," said he. "And rich, I'll warrant. Ready about and
make after her. She's too strong for us,--that I see--but we may
outwit her."

The vessel, in fact, was the _Triton_, with six-and-twenty guns and a
strong crew. Surcouf had but nineteen men aboard, including the
surgeon and himself, and a few Lascars,--natives. The odds were
heavily against him, but his nerve was as adamant.

"My own boat has been a pilot-brig. Up with the pilot flag!" he cried.

As the little piece of bunting fluttered in the breeze, the _Triton_
hove to, and waited for him, as unsuspecting as could be. Surcouf
chuckled.

Nearer and nearer came his own vessel to the lolling Indiaman, and, as
she rolled within hailing distance, the bold French sea-dog saw
"_beaucoup de monde_"--a great crowd of people--upon the deck of the
Englishman.

"My lads!" cried he, turning to his crew. "This _Triton_ is very
strong. We are only nineteen. Shall we try to take her by surprise and
thus acquire both gain and glory? Or, do you prefer to rot in a
beastly English prison-ship?"

"Death or victory!" cried the Frenchmen.

Surcouf smiled.

"This ship shall either be our tomb, or the cradle of our glory," said
he. "It is well!"

The crew and passengers of the _Triton_ saw only a pilot-brig
approaching, as these did habitually (to within twenty