"What vessel is that?" he asked.

"That is a French privateer--at least, there is very little doubt
about it. We must have passed each other in the dark for, when we
first made him out, he was about four miles away, sailing
northeast. He apparently sighted us, just as we made him out; and
hauled his wind, at once. He has gained about a mile on us, in the
last two hours. We have changed our course; and are sailing, as you
see, northwest, so as to bring the wind on our quarter; and I don't
think that fellow has come up much, since. Still, he does come up.
We feel the loss of our sail, now."

It seemed to Bob, looking up, that there was already an immense
amount of canvas on the brig. Stunsails had been set on her, and
she was running very fast through the water.

"We seem to have more canvas set than that vessel behind us," he
said.

"Yes, we have more, but those luggers sail like witches. They are
splendid boats, but they want very big crews to work them. That is
the reason why you scarcely ever see them, with us, except as
fishing craft, or something of that sort. I daresay that lugger has
a hundred men on board--eighty, anyhow--so it is no wonder we
sometimes get the worst of it. They always carry three hands to our
two and, very often, two to our one. Of course we are really a
trader, though we do carry a letter of marque. If we were a regular
privateer, we should carry twice as many hands as we do."

Walking to the poop rail, Bob saw that the men were bringing up
shot, and putting them in the racks by the guns. The breech covers
had been taken off. The first officer was overlooking the work.

"Well, lad," Captain Lockett said, coming up to him, "you see that
unlucky calm has got us into a mess, after all and, unless the wind
drops again, we are going to have to fight for it."

"Would the wind dropping help us, sir?"

"Yes, we have more canvas on her than the lugger carries and, if
the breeze were lighter, should steal away from her. As it is, she
doesn't gain much; but she does gain and, in another two or three
hours, she will be sending a messenger to ask us to stop."

"And what will you do, captain?"

"We shall send another messenger back, to tell her to mind her own
business. Then it will be a question of good shooting. If we can
knock out one of her masts, we shall get off; if we can't, the
chances are we shall see the inside of a French prison.

"If she once gets alongside, it is all up with us. S