meal with me, to-morrow, in my own cabin, aboard my
ship? I shall expect you.

"Yours to count on,

"MIDDLETON."

"I do not want to accept, but I will," mused Captain Bart. "These
English fellows are far too polite."

So, next morning, he was rowed to the British vessel and was soon
breakfasting with his red-faced opponent.

After the meal the Frenchman lighted his pipe, took a few puffs, and
said:

"Monsieur, I have greatly enjoyed this peaceful repast. But it is now
time for me to go and sharpen my boarding-pike. I must bid you adieu."

The Englishman smiled.

"No," said he. "You cannot go. You are my prisoner!"

Jean Bart still smoked.

"You are too quick!" he answered, slowly. "There you are wrong. I am
not your prisoner, for I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and,
if you do not release me immediately, I will blow up your ship!"

The Englishman turned pale.

"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart.

Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted a match from his
pipe, and held it directly over the mouth of a barrel of gunpowder,
from which someone had pried the head.

"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, and we'll all go to the
Land of the Hereafter together."

His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which--with sails up--lay
waiting for him.

In a moment her bow was turned towards the British ship which was
still at anchor, with sails unhoisted. In a moment she dropped down
alongside--and--in less time than it takes to tell--the Frenchmen had
brought her upon the port quarter, and were swarming across the deck
to rescue their bold captain.

Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, but they were no
match for the infuriated men of Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered.
The captain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered a
legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which Middleton had
attempted to play upon Jean Bart. When--in a few days--the prize was
sailed into Dunkirk harbor--the Englishman well wished that he had not
attempted to capture the most able privateersman of all France.

The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and gave rise to a
ditty, which ran:

"If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir,
A slippery, slimy chap,
Don't bait him with gunpowder,
For he's sure to miss the trap.
You must splice him down with chains, sir;
You must nail him to the deck.
Put a belt around his middle,
And a coll