emained on deck cursing quietly and examining the
approaching enemy with no pleasant stare.

Orders were issued to all the six galleys to attack the fleet.
Four were told off against the merchantmen and commanded to make all
speed to get between them and the Thames; while _L'Heureuse_ herself
and _La Merveille_ (commanded by the Chevalier de Sainte-Croix) were
to attack and take possession of the frigate.

Immediately they began to make all possible haste with sails and
oars. Captain Salt withdrew to the cabin in dudgeon and M. de la
Pailletine took his place. From their benches below the slaves heard
his voice shouting out orders right and left, and at once they had to
catch up their oars and row. The English fleet when first spied was
coming right across their course, and still held on its way when it
perceived the Frenchman's intent. In pursuance of this intent the
four galleys made off with all speed to place themselves between the
merchantmen and the coast, while the Commodore and the Chevalier de
Sainte-Croix bore down on the frigate, straight as an arrow.

And now began a hard time for Tristram and his companions below.
They tugged and sweated, and presently _L'Heureuse_ began to leap
through the water. Above the swish of the long sweeps rose a tumult
of oaths, imprecations, outcries, sobs, as the overseers plied their
whips, not caring where they struck. Overhead they heard the guns
running out, the rolling of shot and trampling of feet, the shouts
and replies of officers and men. They could see nothing of the
frigate for which they were bound, but from the confusion and hurry
expected every moment to feel the shock as the galley's beak drove
into her.

Then for a second or two all the noise ceased.

The reason was this. For some little while the frigate held on
her course for the mouth of the Thames. Not a sail more did she
carry than when she first came in sight. It almost seemed as
if her captain had not seen the enemy sweeping to destroy him.
For thirty-five minutes she held quietly on beside her convoy.
And then the helm was shifted, and she came down straight into the
Frenchman's teeth.

It was a gallant stroke, and a subtle--so subtle that M. de la
Pailletine mistook its meaning and gave a great shout of joy.
He fancied he saw the English delivered into his hand. But his
rejoicing was premature.

To begin with, he perceived the next moment that the frigate, by
hastening the attack