at the outbreak of the war, the Earl of Marlborough,
was at once the most gifted with military genius and the most
successful. He was now fifty-two years of age, and one of the leading
men at the Court of Queen Anne. He had seen a fair amount of military
service, and had earned the praise of William III, a judge of the
first order in such matters. But the England of that day could not be
blamed if it failed to foresee the brilliancy of fame with which its
general would ere long surround himself.

[Illustration: Map Of Western Europe In The Time Of Queen Anne. The
shading represents the dominions of Louis XIV.]

He was known as a brave and an able officer, not much more, except
that he was known also to be a great miser. His wife, Sarah Jennings,
now the Countess of Marlborough, was in high favour with the new
Queen; indeed, she was at that time the most influential subject in
the kingdom.

To Marlborough, then, was given the command of the combined English
and Dutch forces.

It needs no telling that the declaration of war, a war in which the
greater part of Europe would most likely be involved, caused no small
consternation among those whose business was with the sea and with
shipping. Fairburn's business necessitated that his single brig should
be constantly running to and from London, and it was early rumoured
that French cruisers and privateers were prowling about the North Sea
and the Channel. A schooner of considerable size, belonging to Squire
Blackett, had, indeed, been chased, off the Norfolk coast, and had
escaped only by the fact that it was lightly laden--it was returning
in ballast to the Tyne--and by its superior sailing qualities. Such
things brought home to every collier the realities of the situation.
George's mother grew alarmed.

"Who knows," said the good woman, "whether the same Frenchman may not
still be on the watch, and seize the _Ouseburn Lassie_ and her cargo;
and, worse than all, my dear boy on board of her?"

Her husband was not without his fears either, but George laughed at
the notion of capture by a French vessel.

"I'll go and have a talk with old Abbott, the skipper," he said, "and
see what he thinks about it."

"Well, George, my lad," the old salt said when the boy questioned him
on the point, "it's like this. It's not impossible we may get a
Frenchy down on us. But we shan't strike our colours if there's the
least chance of doing anything by a bit of fighting. The master's a