--KIPLING.

On the morning of July 3, 1801, a curious scene, which might almost be
described as a sea comedy, was being transacted off the coast of
Alicante. Three huge French line-of-battle ships were manoeuvring and
firing round a tiny little British brig-of-war. It was like three
mastiffs worrying a mouse. The brig was Lord Cochrane's famous little
_Speedy_, a craft so tiny that its commander could carry its entire
broadside in his own pockets, and when he shaved himself in his cabin,
had to put his head through the skylight and his shaving-box on the
quarter-deck, in order to stand upright.

Cochrane was caught by Admiral Linois' squadron, consisting of two
ships of eighty guns and one of seventy-four, on a lee shore, where
escape was impossible; but from four o'clock till nine o'clock Cochrane
evaded all the efforts of his big pursuers to capture him. The French
ships separated on different tacks, so as to keep the little _Speedy_
constantly under the fire of one or the other; and as the British brig
turned and dashed at one opening of the moving triangle or the other,
the great ships thundered their broadsides at her. Cochrane threw his
guns and stores overboard, and by the most ingenious seamanship evaded
capture for hours, surviving some scores of broadsides. He could tack
far more quickly than the gigantic ships that pursued him, and again
and again the _Speedy_ spun round on its heel and shot off on a new
course, leaving its particular pursuer with sheet shivering, and
nothing but space to fire into. Once, by a quick turn, he shot past
one of the 80-gun ships occupied in trying to tack, and got clear. The
_Desaix_, however, a seventy-four, was swiftly on the track of the
_Speedy_; its tall canvas under the growing breeze gave it an
advantage, and it ran down to within musket-shot of the _Speedy_, then
yawed, bringing its whole broadside to bear, intending to sink its tiny
foe with a single discharge. In yawing, however, the _Desaix_ shot a
little too far, and the weight of her broadside only smote the water,
but the scattered grape cut up the _Speedy's_ rigging and canvas so
terribly that nothing was left but surrender.

When Cochrane went on board his captor, its gallant captain refused to
take his sword, saying he "could not accept the sword of an officer who
had struggled for so many hours against impossibility." Cochrane and
his gallant crew were summarily packed into the Frenchman's hol