ied, and making sail, we stood on together.

In about half an hour we were up to the frigate, when both prizes
hove-to to windward of her, that we might send our prisoners as well as
our wounded men on board. Besides the third lieutenant, we had had only
two hurt in capturing our prize, the _Aimable_; but the first
lieutenant, in capturing the other, the _Flore_, had had two men killed
and three wounded, besides the boatswain and himself slightly. Not only
had the crew of the _Flore_ resisted toughly, but boats had come off
from the shore and attempted to retake her, after her cable had been
cut. The _Flore_ had, however, escaped with fewer shot in her hull than
we had received.

During the night we ran off shore, and as soon as it was daylight the
carpenters came on board to repair our damages. The captain had
meantime directed Mr Harvey to take charge of the _Aimable_, and to
carry her into Plymouth.

"I have applied for you, Wetherholm and Hagger, to form part of my
crew," he said, on returning on board. "I know you are anxious to get
home, as it will be some time probably before the frigate herself
returns to port."

I thanked him heartily, and Hagger, I, and the other men, sent for our
bags. As soon as all the arrangements had been completed, we made sail
and stood for the British Channel. The _Flore_, which sailed in our
company, had been placed under charge of the second master. We had been
directed to keep close together so that we might afford each other
support. The wind being light, we did not lose sight of the frigate
until just at sundown, when we saw her making sail, apparently in chase
of some vessel, to the southward. Our brig was a letter of marque, and
had a valuable cargo on board, so that she was worth preserving, and
would give us, we hoped, a nice little sum of prize-money.

For long I had not been in such good spirits, as I hoped soon to be able
to get home and to see my beloved wife, even if I could not manage to
obtain my discharge, for which I intended to try. When it was my watch
below, I could scarcely sleep for thinking of the happiness which I
believed was in store for me.

We had kept two Frenchmen, one to act as cook, the other, who spoke a
little English,--having been for some time a prisoner in England,--as
steward. They were both good-natured, merry fellows. The cook's name
was Pierre le Grande, the other we called Jacques Little. He was a
small, dapper little Fren