hey
might the more conveniently be attended to by our worthy surgeon; after
which the prize was placed in charge of our second mate--a Portland man
named John Comben--and we made sail in company.

The brig was at this time about a mile distant on our lee quarter, while
the ship was about a mile and a half distant, just open of the brig's
stern. Captain Winter stood looking wistfully at the two vessels for a
long time; but at length turned away and said regretfully:

"I am afraid we shall have to be content with what we have got, George.
If there was only one of them, and I wouldn't care very much which of
them it was, I would tackle her unhesitatingly; but the two of them
together are rather too big a mouthful for us. So make sail and let us
get back to Weymouth as quickly as we can; if another Frenchman were to
heave in sight while those two are so close to us we might find it a
hard matter to take care of ourselves, to say nothing of the lugger."

The brig and the ship clung persistently to our skirts the whole of that
day, although we gradually drew away from them; but during the night we
lost sight of them, and late the next evening we arrived in Weymouth
harbour without further adventure.

Our prize--the _Cerf_, of Saint Brieuc--proved to be a very fine vessel,
and quite worth the taking; still the prize-money accruing from her
capture did not amount to very much, and Captain Winter came to the
conclusion that, with so many vessels of our own nationality already
swarming in the Channel, that locality could no longer be regarded as a
very profitable cruising-ground. He therefore determined, with Mr
White's full approval, to prosecute operations further afield; trying
the Atlantic first of all, and afterwards--if that did not yield
satisfactory results--pushing right across as far as the West Indies.
This decision arrived at, we pressed forward our preparations with all
speed, and a week later were once more ready for sea.

We sailed early on a Saturday morning with a moderate breeze at west;
and, having cleared the Bill of Portland, stretched away for the French
coast, close-hauled on the starboard tack, making the land near
Abervrach Harbour shortly after mid-day on the following Monday. We
stood in to within a mile of the land, and then tacked. We were about
ten miles off shore when our look-out reported a large sail on our
weather beam, coming down under studding-sails, and it being my watch on
deck I w