ady breeze breathed across the sky from the
Northeast. They could have hoped for nothing better. The broad
lateen sails were spread, and the slaves sat quietly before their
oars, ready to row, though for hour after hour there was no need of
rowing. The six vessels kept within easy distance of each other, and
Captain Salt, on the deck of _L'Heureuse_, directed their movements
with a serenity that cheered even the poor men on the benches below
him. As the awning shook and the masts creaked gently above them,
they stretched their limbs, drew long breaths, and felt that after
all it was good to live.

So steady did the wind keep all day that about five in the evening
they brought the English coast in sight. It was the opinion of all
the captains that they should run up for Harwich at once; but the
Englishman had other views.

"It is too early," he told M. de la Pailletine. "There are cruisers
about, and if we are seen the game will be spoiled."

He gave orders to lower the sails and stand off till nightfall.
The captain, of course, obeyed.

They had not lain to above an hour when the man who had been sent to
the masthead of _L'Heureuse_ shouted out:

"A fleet to the north!"

"Whither bound?" called up Captain Salt.

"Steering west."

"What number?"

The man was silent for a moment, then answered:

"Thirty-six sail, all merchant-built, and an escort."

"What is she like?"

"A frigate, of about thirty guns."

CHAPTER XIV.

THE GALLEYS AND THE FRIGATE.

_I.--The Frigate._

The _Merry Maid_ had left the Texel by the narrow gut called
De Witt's Diep, with her convoy following in line and in
admirable order. The breeze was fair for England. A full round
moon rose over the sandbanks behind them as Captain Barker sent the
pilots ashore and stood easily out to sea, for the most of his
merchant-ships were sluggish sailers, and not a few overladen.
So clear was the night that, as he paced the quarter-deck with the
dew falling steadily around him, he could not only count their
thirty-six lanterns, but even discern their piled canvas glimmering
as they stole like ghosts in his wake.

That night he left his watch for an hour only, when shortly before
dawn Captain Runacles came to relieve him, threatening mutiny unless
he retired to snatch a little slumber. But the sun was scarce up
before the little man reappeared. The pride of his old profession
was working like yeast within him. His breast swel