t Jack was
hurriedly dressing to go on deck.

She was a French sloop of war. Disappointed at his want of success on
the previous night, Jack announced to Tom Fairlie his generous intention
of blowing her sky-high.

So all sail was crowded in chase.

The sloop bore away before the wind. She knew, perhaps, her best course
for safety and escape.

It was very tantalizing but very exciting withal. She might have been a
phantom ship, so steadily did she crack on all day long, Jack never
getting a knot nearer, nor she a knot farther off. Stun'-sails were set
and carried away, all was done that could be done; but when at last the
crimson sun sank in a pink and purple haze, all on board could see that
the sloop had won the race.

But strange things happen, and but for this sloop Jack would never have
had the honour of being at the battle of Camperdown. They had sailed
very far north; and about five bells in the morning watch, while it was
still dark, the _Tonneraire_ found herself surrounded with mighty
men-of-war. Now, if these were Frenchmen, the days and years of the
swift _Tonneraire_ were assuredly numbered. But they were not. They were
the ships of Britannia, who was even then ruling the sea--the fleet of
bold Scotch Duncan, who had been refitting at Yarmouth, when he had
heard that the great Dutch fleet of De Winter had at last crawled out of
the Texel, and was on its way south to effect a junction with the
French, then--Heaven help Britannia!

"Going to join the French fleet De Winter is, is he?" Scotch Duncan said
when he heard the news. Duncan never said a bad word, but on this
memorable occasion he hitched up his Scotch breeks and added, "I'll be
dashed if he does. Make the signal 'Up anchor!'" Having issued this
order, he coolly entered his state-room to lock his drawers and put away
his papers and jewellery, for he knew the ship would be knocked about a
bit. As he did so he whistled "Johnnie Cope."

And now the _Tonneraire_ was hailed by the flagship, and told to fall in
with the fleet.

Tom Fairlie rubbed his hands with delight, M'Hearty chuckled, and old
Simmons rumbled out some remark to the effect that he knew Duncan well,
and that "you youngsters" (that was Tom and Jack) "will soon have your
fill of honour and glory."

So they did.

And braver battle than Camperdown was never fought. Not only did our
fellows exhibit the greatest of courage, but gallant De Winter as well.

The Dutch had about twen