we
shall pass outside Ushant, if we keep on as we are going now."

"No doubt, sir," answered the master. "But in my opinion," he
continued, "that's where the fellow we sighted a while ago is bound to,"
and he laid his forefinger on that part of the chart where the word
Brest was legibly printed.

"Ah!" ejaculated the skipper, "you are likely enough to be right. But
he shall never get there, even if I have to drive the frigate under
water to stop him. Hang it! I wish the weather would clear, if only
for a moment, and allow us to get a sight of him. Thank you, Mr
Trimble; that will do." And he released his hold upon the chart,
allowing the corner he had been holding to spring back and curl up. I
did the same, and, as the ship took a somewhat heavier roll than usual,
glanced out over the bulwarks at the racing, foam-capped surges that
reared themselves alongside; and at that moment, as if in direct
response to the skipper's forcibly expressed wish, the haze thinned away
somewhat to starboard, revealing, square abeam, and apparently about a
mile away, a dim, misty, grey shape faintly showing up through the
thickness to starboard.

"Sail ho!" I cried excitedly, pointing her out; "there she is, sir."
And even as the words passed my lips there came a shout from the lookout
on the forecastle of "Sail ho! A large ship, broad on our starboard
beam."

"Ay, ay, I see her--the glass, quick, Mr Delamere," answered the
skipper. I jumped for the telescope, drew the tube, and handed it over
to the impatient hand outstretched to receive it. By a piece of good
fortune the atmosphere inshore of us just then thinned away still more
for a few minutes, enabling us to get a tolerably distinct view of the
stranger. Captain Vavassour, glass in hand, sprang up the poop-ladder,
and, with feet planted wide apart to give himself a good grip of the
heaving deck, applied the telescope to his eye. I followed him, that I
might be at hand if required. For a long two minutes he stood intently
studying the stranger, and speaking to himself the while. "A 50-gun
ship," I heard him mutter, "and a Frenchman at that--steering a parallel
course to ourselves; yes, very likely making for Brest. Rather a stiff
customer to tackle, perhaps, but I'll not let that stop me."

He removed the instrument from his eye, and, seeing me at his elbow,
handed it back to me. "Thank you, Mr Delamere," he said. "I shall not
require you again, so you had bet