hat the _Herald_
might be captured, and that the United States people will have the
backbone to hold fast to her," added Captain Beardsley.

"Why do they hope for any such bad luck as that?" inquired Marcy,
considerably surprised.

"May be it wouldn't be bad luck. You see she is a Britisher, the
_Herald_ is, and her cargo was consigned to an English house all fair
and square. A blockade, to be legal and binding upon foreign nations,
must be effectual," said the captain, quoting the language his agent had
often used in his hearing. "A paper blockade won't do; and if the
Yankees can't send ships enough here to shut up our ports completely,
any Britisher or Frenchman can run in and out as often as he feels like
it, and the Yankees dassent do a thing to him. If the _Herald_ has been
captured she will have to be given up."

"But suppose Uncle Sam won't give her up?"

"We are hoping he won't, for that will get the British folks down on
him; and between the two of us we'll give him such a licking that he'll
never get over it. See?"

Yes; Marcy saw, now that the situation had been explained to him, but it
was something he had never thought of before. Almost the first lesson he
learned in history was that England had no love for the United States,
and if she took a hand in the war that was surely coming, why then----

"Why, then, France may help Uncle Sam," exclaimed Marcy. "She has always
been friendly to us, and didn't she send troops here during our
Revolutionary war to help us whip the English?"

"She did; but what was the reason she sent them troops over here?"
demanded the captain, who had heard this question discussed a good many
times while Marcy was at home on his leave of absence. "Was it because
she had any love for republican--republican--ah--er--institutions? No,
sir. It was because she wanted to spite the English for taking Canady
away from her. France won't lift a hand to help the Yankees if we get
into a row with them."

Beardsley took another turn about his quarter-deck, lighted a fresh
cigar, and became confidential.

"Something tells me that this business of privateering ain't a going to
last long, and so I think some of dropping it and starting out in
another," said he. "Any idea what it is?"

Marcy replied that he had not.

"Well, it's trading--running the blockade."

"To what ports?" asked the boy.

"I can't rightly tell till I get some word from them vessels that's just
went out," was the