utenant stood
talking to Colonel de Chamillard, of the French marines. The scavengers
were sweeping down, and part of the after guard was bending a new
bolt-rope on a storm staysail.

Then the--fore-topmast crosstrees reports a sail on the weather quarter,
the Richard is brought around on the wind, and away we go after a
brigantine, "flying like a snow laden with English bricks," as Midshipman
Coram jokingly remarks. A chase is not such a novelty with us that we
crane our necks to windward.

At noon, when I relieved Mr. Stacey of the deck, the sun had eaten up the
fog, and the shores of England stood out boldly. Spurn Head was looming
up across our bows, while that of Flamborough jutted into the sea behind
us. I had the starboard watch piped to dinner, and reported twelve
o'clock to the commodore. And had just got permission to "make it,"
according to a time-honoured custom at sea, when another "Sail, ho!" came
down from aloft.

"Where away?" called back Mr. Linthwaite, who was midshipman of the
forecastle.

"Starboard quarter, rounding Flamborough Head, sir. Looks like a
full-rigged ship, sir."

I sent the messenger into the great cabin to report. He was barely out
of sight before a second cry came from the masthead: "Another sail
rounding Flamborough, sir!"

The officers on deck hurried to the taffrail. I had my glass, but not a
dot was visible above the sea-line. The messenger was scarcely back
again when there came a third hail: "Two more rounding the head, sir!
Four in all, sir!"

Here was excitement indeed. Without waiting for instructions, I gave the
command:

"Up royal yards! Royal yardmen in the tops!"

We were already swaying out of the chains, when Lieutenant Dale appeared
and asked the coasting pilot what fleet it was. He answered that it was
the Baltic fleet, under convoy of the Countess of Scarborough, twenty
guns, and the Serapis, forty-four.

"Forty-four," repeated Mr. Dale, smiling; "that means fifty, as English
frigates are rated. We shall have our hands full this day, my lads,"
said he. "You have done well to get the royals on her, Mr. Carvel."

While he was yet speaking, three more sail were reported from aloft.
Then there was a hush on deck, and the commodore himself appeared. As he
reached the poop we saluted him and informed him of what had happened.

"The Baltic fleet," said he, promptly. "Call away the pilotboat with Mr.
Lunt to follow the brigantine, sir, and ease off before the