quarter of an hour to this occupation, he slowly closed the telescope, and carefully slinging it over his shoulder, descended to the deck with the same deliberation which had characterised his ascent. It was not until he had regained the skipper’s side that he condescended to make his report; when, handing back the glass with a stiff bow, he said, “I make out the stranger to be, sir, a brig, apparently French, of about our own size; she is standing directly toward us, upon the starboard tack, under topgallant-sails.”

“Thank you, sir,” returned the skipper shortly; then turning upon his heel he went below to his cabin, Patterson having come on deck a minute or two before, to announce that breakfast was ready.

The news quickly spread through the ship that the sail in sight was supposed to be a Frenchman; and as the two vessels were approaching each other, and an action, in the event of Mr Clewline’s supposition proving correct, inevitable, a considerable amount of excitement prevailed. The men bolted their breakfast in less than half the time usually devoted to that meal, and returned to the deck the moment they had disposed of their last morsel; while the officers betrayed at least an equal amount of eagerness, two or three of them hastily swallowing a cup of scalding coffee, and munching up a biscuit, without giving themselves time even to sit down.

“Old Sennitt”—as he was irreverently termed in the midshipmen’s berth—was one of the earliest to put in an appearance after breakfast, and his first act was to go straight aloft with his glass. He devoted more time even than Mr Clewline to the examination of the stranger, and it was not until Captain Brisac had returned to the deck and hailed him that he made a move.

As he came aft and joined his superior upon the quarter-deck, exultation was visible in his face, and in every movement of his body.

“It is all right, sir,” he exclaimed; “she is French beyond all possibility of doubt. The cut of her canvas is alone sufficient evidence of her nationality; but in order that there may be no room for question of it, she has furled her royals, and has run up the tricolour to her main-royal-mast-head. She is a brig, as far as I can make out her rig, coming end-on to us as she is, and seems about our size, or perhaps a trifle larger. I suppose we may as well clear for action at once?”

“If you please, Mr Sennitt; and, not to be behindhand with them, let them see the colour of our bunting before you do anything else.”

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