ff clear into the
Channel without being overhauled.

"We had been out a fortnight, keeping well on the French coast, and had
picked up two good prizes, when one morning, as the fog was cleared up
with a sharp northerly wind, we found ourselves right under the lee of
an English frigate, not a mile from us. There was a bubble of a sea, for
the wind had been against the tide previous to its changing, and we were
then about six or seven miles from the French coast, just between
Boulogne and Cape Grisnez, lying to for the fog to clear away. As soon
as we saw the frigate we knew that she would board us, and we were all
in a terrible fright." Here Bramble shifted the skewer and said, "How's
her head, Tom?"

[Illustration: "HOW'S HER HEAD, TOM?"--Marryat, Vol. X., p. 281.]

I replied, and he proceeded:

"The frigate hoisted her colors, and of course we did the same. She then
fired a gun as a signal for us to remain, hove to, and we perceived her
boats lowering down. 'Now, my lads,' said our captain, 'if you don't
mind a shot or two, I think I will save you from impressment this time.'
We all declared that we would stand a hundred rather than be taken on
board of a man-of-war. 'Very well,' says he, 'starboard a little, and
keep her a little away, so as to let her go through the water; but keep
the foresheet to windward, so that we may appear only to have fallen
off.' By this plan we gradually increased our distance from the frigate,
and got more on her bow. All this while the boat was pulling toward us,
rising and tossing on the sea, but still nearing us fast. As she came
nearer to us we let the lugger come up in the wind again for a short
time, that we might not appear to be dodging away, and then, when the
bowman was almost ready to lay in his oar, away we let her go through
the water, so that she was left astern again. They could not well
perceive this on board of the frigate, although the officer in the boat
was very savage, for at one time he had his bow oar in and his boat-hook
out. At last the frigate, perceiving that we were apparently slipping
away, put her helm up, and fired a shot across our bows. 'Now's your
time, my boys,' said the captain; 'let draw the sheets, the breeze is
strong. She must wait to pick up her boat, and that will give us a mile
at least.' Up went the helm, and we made all sail right for the French
coast. How's her head, Tom?"

I replied, and Bramble resumed:

"The frigate ran down to her bo