port bow, when only a few hours' sail from the snug harbor of Leghorn.

This vessel--a zebeque--had been waiting for the well-hated
privateersman for several days, as her captain had been warned by the
Italians that Wright was about to set sail. She had three masts, each
carrying a huge, three-cornered sail, sixteen guns of considerable
size, and several swivels. Her crew numbered two hundred and eighty
men, well armed and eager for a brush with the famous Fortunatus,
whose proverbial good fortune seemed now to have deserted him.

Rounding to, Wright signalled to his merchantmen to draw near and
hurriedly transported some of the cannon, which he had smuggled, to
his own vessel. He also added to his small crew, so that--when the
zebeque came pounding down within shooting distance--he had increased
his sailors from twenty-five to seventy-five, and his guns, from four
to twelve.

"Now let the Frenchie come on!" he cried. "I'm half prepared, but I'll
give her a warmer welcome than she ever had in all her career!"

"Huzzah! Huzzah!" shouted his men, who were a motley collection of all
nationalities: Italians, English, Portuguese, Dutch, Germans, and a
few Arabs. "Huzzah! Huzzah! Wright forever!" The Arabs, of course,
didn't say this, but they tried to.

The French were very confident, and, as they came within range of the
guns of the little _Saint George_ they began to sing a hymn of
victory, while their captain already saw, in his hands, the rich
reward offered by the good citizens of Marseilles.

"Poof!" he chuckled. "Monsieur Wright, he soon take dinnaire in my
cabin. Poof!"

But Monsieur Wright was a different fellow than he imagined, and his
men--although of all nationalities--were so animated by his stirring
and martial spirit, that they fought better than they had ever fought
in their lives before. You all know how necessary to success "Spirit"
is in a foot-ball team, or a base-ball nine. The team which has the
do-or-dare spirit, the never-give-up-until-the-last-gun-is-fired
determination, is usually the team that wins. And the spirit of the
captain is the controlling factor in any contest. If he be no
desperate fighter, his followers will not be desperate fighters. If he
is weak-kneed in a crisis, his followers will be weak-kneed.

So this motley crew, under Fortunatus Wright, cheered onward by the
dauntless navigator, fought as they had never fought before. Arab and
German strove as well as Englishman and I