dmiral Keppel, then cruising off Brest.
Keppel had as perplexed and delicate a charge as was ever entrusted to
a British admiral. Great Britain was at war with her American
colonies, and there was every sign that France intended to add herself
to the fight. No fewer than thirty-two sail of the line and twelve
frigates were gathered in Brest roads, and another fleet of almost
equal strength in Toulon. Spain, too, was slowly collecting a mighty
armament. What would happen to England if the Toulon and Brest fleets
united, were joined by a third fleet from Spain, and the mighty array
of ships thus collected swept up the British Channel? On June 13,
1778, Keppel, with twenty-one ships of the line and three frigates, was
despatched to keep watch over the Brest fleet. War had not been
proclaimed, but Keppel was to prevent a junction of the Brest and
Toulon fleets, by persuasion if he could, but by gunpowder in the last
resort.

Keppel's force was much inferior to that of the Brest fleet, and as
soon as the topsails of the British ships were visible from the French
coast, two French frigates, the _Licorne_ and _La Belle Poule_, with
two lighter craft, bore down upon them to reconnoitre. But Keppel
could not afford to let the French admiral know his exact force, and
signalled to his own outlying ships to bring the French frigates under
his lee.

At nine o'clock at night the _Licorne_ was overtaken by the _Milford_,
and with some rough sailorly persuasion, and a hint of broadsides, her
head was turned towards the British fleet. The next morning, in the
grey dawn, the Frenchman, having meditated on affairs during the night,
made a wild dash for freedom. The _America_, an English 64--double,
that is, the _Licorne's_ size--overtook her, and fired a shot across
her bow to bring her to. Longford, the captain of the _America_, stood
on the gunwale of his own ship politely urging the captain of the
_Licorne_ to return with him. With a burst of Celtic passion the
French captain fired his whole broadside into the big Englishman, and
then instantly hauled down his flag so as to escape any answering
broadside!

Meanwhile the _Arethusa_ was in eager pursuit of the _Belle Poule_; a
fox-terrier chasing a mastiff! The _Belle Poule_ was a splendid ship,
with heavy metal, and a crew more than twice as numerous as that of the
tiny _Arethusa_. But Marshall, its captain, was a singularly gallant
sailor, and not the man to count odds