the boat provisions for four or five days; cloaks, blankets, a
compass, and lantern; with three muskets, and pistols and cutlasses for
each person. Our directions were to cruise about for three days, should
the weather remain moderate, and then to rejoin the cutter off the
Needles. We started away with a light breeze and a smooth sea, and
stood for a short way towards Cherbourg, while the cutter returned over
part of the course she had come. The weather was very pleasant, and the
sunbeams sparkled cheerily on the rippling wavelets caused by the
meeting of the tide and wind, as we ran through the water at the rate of
some five or six knots an hour. Hanks lighted his favourite short black
pipe, such as in Ireland we should call a "dodeen." He never indulged
in a cigar, except one was given him. While he leaned back, with his
legs stretched along the seats, I steered. I used to think it very hard
that he would never let me smoke, but I have since been much obliged to
him.

"This is what I call comfort, Neil," said he. "One of the smooths of
life; but it won't last, so let us enjoy it while we can. Before long
we may be getting broken heads, with a gale of wind into the bargain."

So he smoked his pipe, took ever and anon a sip from the rum-bottle,
sang a snatch from a song, and joked and talked away till the sun began
to hasten his descent into the ocean. We were all the time keeping a
look-out for any suspicious craft.

At last the sails of a lugger appeared against the evening sky as she
got clear of the land. We made sure it was the vessel we were in search
of, and prepared for action.

"D'Arcy, do you stay at the helm, and keep the wherry alongside, while
the rest of us jump aboard," said Hanks. "Stretcher, you must knock
down the fellow at the helm; I'll grapple with the skipper, if they show
fight."

On came the lugger. I thought it very unlikely if Myers was on board,
from his well-known character, that he would fail to show fight; indeed,
it seemed much more probable that he would do his best to knock us all
on the head, and heave us overboard again, should we manage to set foot
on his deck. However, I said nothing, and felt just as eager for the
fray as if such an idea had not crossed my mind.

Hanks had been taking a steady look at the lugger through his spy-glass.
"Well!" he exclaimed, "hang me if I don't think, after all, that she's
one of those French _chasse marees_. Our lugger hasn't yet