helter-skelter, so rapidly that English and French tumbled over the bulwarks together. There was a momentary effort on the part of the French to make a stand on reaching their own deck; but they were, as a crew, now thoroughly demoralised, and our lads, their blood at last completely roused, gave them no time to rally, but cut down every man who offered the slightest opposition. Seeing that their case was hopeless, the French crew flung down their arms and cried for quarter, and in less than two minutes from the instant of boarding, we found ourselves masters of the “Sans-Culotte” privateer, mounting eight long 8-pounders and four 12-pound carronades, and with a crew originally of eighty-one men, of whom nine were killed and twenty wounded; our own loss being one man killed and one wounded. The action lasted three hours, and proved to be the first engagement of the war, much to the gratification of Mr Sennitt, who was intensely anxious for the distinction of sending in the first prize.

The first duty was of course to secure possession, after which, the weather appearing likely to continue fine, the hands were piped to dinner—such dinner, that is, as could be procured on the spur of the moment, the galley fire having been extinguished at the time of clearing for action. Captain Brisac allowed an hour for this meal and a little repose, at the expiration of which all hands were set to work to clear away the wreck and repair damages, a task which kept us busy until considerably after sunset. By eight p.m., however, our preparations were complete, a prize crew was placed on board the “Sans-Culotte,” and a nice little breeze having in the meantime sprung up from the westward, we made sail in company, shaping a course for Plymouth, off which we arrived about noon the next day.

The prize, now being safe from all chance of recapture, was sent in, while the “Scourge,” hauling her wind upon the starboard tack, reached off the land on her way back to her appointed cruising-ground.

On the following day, about an hour before the time for serving dinner in the cabin, Patterson, the captain’s steward, popped his head in at the door of the midshipmen’s berth and announced,—

“Captain’s compliments, and he will be glad to have the pleasure of Mr Chester’s company at dinner.”

“Tell Captain Brisac with my compliments that I am much obliged for his courteous invitation, which I accept with very great pleasure,” I responded, looking up from the “Day’s Work” upon which I was busy with my slate and pencil.

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