ch suddenly veered about and formed a
line, awaiting an attack. The _Sheerness_ was way astern. Would
Captain Walker advance?

It was eight against one, and there was no certainty what was the
armament of the vessels now standing in a row, all ready for action.
The faces of the officers on the _Boscawen_ showed anxiety and
suspense, but there was no shadow of fear upon the countenance of
Captain Walker, who now addressed them in the following words:

"Gentlemen, I hope that you do not think the number of prizes before
us too many. Be assured, my good friends, that by their being armed,
they have something on board of them that is worth defending. I take
them to be merchantmen with letters of marque (privateers), and
homeward bound. Without doubt we shall meet with some opposition, in
which I know that you will exhibit your usual courage. We must conquer
these superior numbers by superior skill. Be cool. Be careful that you
aim correctly, for, as we shall be pressed on all sides, let every man
do his best to engage the enemy that he sees before him.

"In a word, Gentlemen, if you will put full confidence in me for
leading you on, I will pawn my life upon the fact that I will bring
you off victorious."

"Hurray! Hurray for Walker!" came the reassuring response.

"Then go to your quarters, my hearties! Fight like Britishers of old,
and all will be well!" cried the brave mariner.

Like a hornet among a group of snap-dragons, the _Boscawen_ now sailed
into the centre of the enemy's line.

"Do not fire until I give the word!" cried Captain Walker, as the salt
spray kicked and splashed about the bow of the on-coming _Boscawen_.
"Then hammer away like anvils on a sledge!"

Sixty men were ill on board the stout little English privateer, but
all save three crawled on deck in order to render what assistance they
could in pointing and handling the guns.

Now was a glorious fight.

_Bang! Crash! Z-i-i-p!_

The French privateers were hammering away as the Englishman approached
and their balls cut and tore through the rigging, damaging the mizzen
topsail, and splitting a topmast. Steering straight for the largest
vessel, Walker waited until he was within close range and then gave
the order:

"Fire, and hull her if you can."

_Poof! Cr-a-a-sh!_

A blinding broadside rolled from the port of the _Boscawen_, and the
solid shot bit and tore the stranger like a terrier mouthing a rat.

The valiant little privateer was no