a pirate's beard, as I afterwards learnt.

Le Gros was a bully. His great size and strength enabled him to enact
the part of the bully, and upon all occasions he played it to
perfection. He was a bold man, however, and a good seaman--one of the
two or three who divided the championship with Ben Brace. I need hardly
say that there was a rivalry between them, with national prejudices at
the bottom of it. To this rivalry was I indebted for the friendship of
Ben Brace.

It came about thus. By some trifling act I had offended the Frenchman,
and ever after did he make it a point to insult and annoy me by every
means in his power, until at length, on one occasion, he struck me a
cruel blow on the face. That blow did the business. It touched the
generous chord in the heart of the English sailor, that, despite the
vile association in which he lived, still vibrated at the call of
humanity. He was present, and saw the stroke given, and saw, moreover,
that it was undeserved. He was lying in his hammock at the time, but
instantly sprang out, and, without saying a word, he made a rush at Le
Gros and pinned him with a John Bull hit upon the chin.

The bully staggered back against a chest, but in a moment recovered
himself; and then both went on deck, where a ring was formed, and they
went to work with the fists in right earnest. The officers of the ship
did not interfere--in fact the mate drew near and looked on, rather as I
thought with an interest in the combat, than with any desire to put an
end to it, and the captain remained upon his quarter-deck, apparently
not caring how it ended! I wondered at this want of discipline, but I
had already begun to wonder at many other matters that occurred daily on
board the _Pandora_, and I said nothing.

The fight lasted a good while, but ended as might be expected, when a
fist combat occurs between an Englishman and Frenchman. The latter was
badly thrashed, and that portion of his face that was not already black
with hair was soon turned to a bluish-black by the rough, hard knuckles
of his antagonist. He was at length felled to the deck like a great
bullock, and obliged to acknowledge himself beaten.

"Now you danged parley voo!" cried Brace, as he gave the finishing blow,
"don't lay finger on that boy again, or I'll give you just twice as
much. The boy's English after all, and gets enough, without being
bullied by a frog-eatin' Frenchman. So mind what I say, one and all of