ting towards him, fell back
into the arms of Abel Bush and Peter Ogle, who had come to have a last
look at their old friend.

He was dead, and little True Blue was left an orphan.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Poor Billy True Blue little knew the loss he had experienced, when, as
usual, he kicked and frisked about, and spluttered and cooed, as that
evening Paul Pringle, with a sad heart, was dipping him in a tub,
preparatory to putting him into his cot. Paul had soon to send for Sam
Smatch to take his place, as he had plenty of work on deck in repairing
damages. Besides being much cut up in hull and rigging, the fleet had
suffered greatly, and had had six officers and one hundred and fourteen
men killed, and nine officers and one hundred and forty-five men
wounded. The Admiral's ship, the _Sandwich_, had suffered the most
severely; and it was only by the united exertions of her own and other
ships' companies that she was kept afloat during the night and all the
next day, till she could be got back again into Gros Islet Bay. There
every possible exertion was made to repair damages, so as to be in a
state to go in search of the enemy.

It was not, however, till the 6th of May that Sir George Rodney received
intelligence that the French fleet had left the Island of Guadaloupe,
where they had been repairing their damages, and were approaching to
windward of Martinique.

Once more the English fleet was ordered by signal to put to sea; and
with no less zest than before the anchors were run up, and under a crowd
of sail they stood out of the bay. The wind, however, was contrary, and
for several days the ships had to continue beating against it through
the passage between Martinique and Saint Lucia till the 10th, when, as
the morning broke, the Frenchmen were seen mustering the same number as
before, about three leagues to windward.

"Hurrah! we'll have them now; they'll not demean themselves by running
away!" was the general shout on board the British ships.

Nearer the English approached. The French formed in line of battle and
bore down upon them. The hearts of the British tars beat high. They
thought the time they were looking for had assuredly come; but when
scarcely within so much as random shot, the Frenchmen were seen to haul
their wind, and being much faster sailers than the English, they quickly
got again beyond speaking distance. The English seamen stamped with
rage and disappointment, as well they might, and