t, if you please, and let us
see how they take the proposal."

My head was beginning to ache most villainously, but curiosity got the
better of me for the moment, and I determined to postpone my visit to
friend Bolus, until I had heard what the skipper had to say.

In a minute or two every man was on the quarter-deck, hat in hand, and
expectancy in every feature.

"My lads," commenced the skipper, "I have sent for you, because I have a
proposition to make, and I wish to see for myself how you individually
take it. When the frigate astern was first made out this morning, I was
in hopes that the little `Scourge' would prove active enough to keep us
out of reach of the Frenchman's shot; but you have seen for yourselves
how completely fallacious that hope has been. The frigate goes two feet
to our one, and were she being fought as so beautiful a craft ought to
be, all hands of us would, by this time, be fairly under way for a
French prison. But you see how it is; there are a lot of tinkers and
tailors aboard there; they are not seamen, and do not deserve the luck
of being sent to sea in such a fine vessel; it is evident that, though
they may possibly know how to sail her, they cannot fight her. They
cannot possibly keep her long; the English are _certain_ to have her
sooner or later, and since that is the case, why should not _we_ have
her? No, stay a moment; don't cheer, lads, until you have heard me out.
Of course, anything like a regularly fought action between us and her
is out of the question; she is a two-and-thirty twelve-pounder, against
which we can only show eight six pounders; a single broadside from
her--_well_ delivered--would send us to the bottom. But I think there
is just a possibility--by a little manoeuvring on our part--of getting
alongside her; and if that can be done, I am of opinion that, by a bold
rush from all hands, we might secure possession of her. No doubt there
will be plenty of hard knocks to be had for the asking; but even that is
better than a French prison. What say you, my lads?"

A hearty cheer was the first response; then there was a general putting
of heads together, and much eager talking for about a couple of minutes.
Finally a topman--one Bob Adams--a magnificent specimen of the British
tar, a perfect Hercules in build, and one of the prime seamen of the
ship, shouldered his way to the front, and, with an elaborate sea-scrape
and a tug at his forelock, addressed the skipper