oner. Had the Frenchmen altered their course,
and run away from her, it would have excited the suspicions of those on
board, so they kept on as before. This plan, however, did not avail
them. A shot, which before long came whistling across our fore-foot,
showed them that they were wanted alongside the schooner. The schooner
hoisted English colours, and from her general appearance I had no doubt
that she was a privateer. As soon, therefore, as the boat went
alongside, I sung out that I was an Englishman, and a prisoner.

"Halloa! Who's that?" said a man, looking over the side of the
schooner. "What! Jack Williams, is that you?" The speaker, without
waiting for my reply, let himself down into the boat, and as he grasped
my hand, I recognised him as my old acquaintance Jacob Lyal.

Pointing to my arm, I told him that I had been wounded, and how ill I
was; and he at once sung out for a sling, and in another minute I was
safely placed on the deck of the vessel.

The captain of the schooner then ordered the Frenchmen into the boat,
and putting some of his people in her, she was dropped astern. I don't
know what he said to the Frenchmen, but they seemed far from contented
with the change of lot. I learned afterwards that he wanted the boat to
go in and cut out some French merchantmen.

The schooner had a surgeon on board, and when the captain heard the
account I gave Lyal of my late adventures, he directed that I should be
immediately placed under his charge. I flesh, as soon as the fever
abated, I got rapidly well and fit for duty.

The schooner was, I found, the _Black Joke_, belonging to the island of
Guernsey. Lyal so worked on my imagination, by the accounts he gave of
the life of a privateer's-man, and the prize-money to be made, that he
soon persuaded me to enter aboard her. There cannot be the shadow of a
doubt that I ought to have gone back, by the first opportunity, to join
my own ship; though, of course, I knew that, under the circumstances of
the case, I ran very little fear of punishment by not doing so, should I
at any time happen to fall in with her. The schooner was a very large
vessel of her class, and mounted sixteen 6-pounders, with a crew of some
eighty men or more. Captain Savage, who commanded her, was a bold
dashing fellow, but he cared nothing for honour, or glory, or
patriotism. He had only one object in view in fighting--it was to make
money. Privateering was the shortest and eas