re getting very near; so was the mouth of the harbour.
Not far outside True Blue knew that he should find the _Rover_. On
they came. He luffed across the bows of one, and poured in a broadside;
then he treated the other in the same way, and directly afterwards, with
a slashing breeze, dashed out of the harbour. In a quarter of an hour
he was up to the _Rover_, and right hearty were the cheers with which he
was received; for the constant firing had made Sir Henry fear that the
boats were pursued, and that the enterprise had failed.

The two vessels now stood away under all sail from the land.

"I have known many brave actions," said Sir Henry, when on the next day
True Blue presented himself before his Captain, "but I assure you,
Freeborn, none exceeds the one you have just performed in dash or
gallantry. You have still, I am certain, the road to the higher ranks
of our noble profession open to you, if you will but accept the first
step."

"Thank you, Sir Henry," answered True Blue modestly; "I have just done
my duty. My mind is made up about the matter. I wished to take the
craft, just to show that I deserved your good opinion of me; and perhaps
it may help somewhat to confirm me in my rank as bo'sun, and if it does,
I shall be well content."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

Peace--known as the Peace of Amiens--was concluded in 1801; and though
England called in her cruisers, prohibiting them any longer to burn,
sink, and destroy those of her enemies, she wisely declined drawing her
own teeth or cutting her claws, by dismantling her ships and disbanding
her crews, but, like a good-natured lion, crouched down, wagging her
tail and sucking her paws, while, turning her eyes round and round, she
carefully watched the turn affairs were likely to take.

Never had more ships been seen arriving day after day at Spithead, and
never had Portsmouth Harbour been fuller of others fitting and refitting
for sea, or its streets more crowded with seamen laughing, dancing,
singing, and committing all sorts of extravagances, and flinging their
well-earned money about with the most reckless prodigality.

About this time, while Portsmouth was in the heyday of its uproarious
prosperity, and prize-money was as plentiful as blackberries in summer,
a man-of-war's eight-oared cutter was seen pulling in from Spithead, and
then, entering the harbour, making for the Gosport shore. There was
nothing unusual in this, or rather it was an event