So saying, he returned to Dunkirk, speedily found employment, and went to sea again—not in a man-of-war, but in a privateer. He was now four-and-twenty; was wiry, tough, and well used to battling both with men and with the elements. The boat he sailed in mounted only two guns and had a crew of thirty-six. She was named after a famous personage of Biblical history: King David, and she conducted herself as skilfully as did that ancient monarch, for was not Jean Bart at the helm?
Cruising out upon the treacherous waters of the North Sea, it was not long before a vessel was sighted that was of such small tonnage that Bart was not afraid to give chase. He slapped on all canvas, put his helm hard over, and steered for the dancing bit of canvas. The King David was a swift sailer, and soon the bow-gun spoke from the deck of the French privateer, sending a challenging shot whistling close to the stern of the stranger, who flew the flag of the States General (the Dutch Republic) with which the French were now at war.
The stranger did not relish the challenge, and came to in a hurry, while her flag fluttered weakly to the deck.
“She’s ours!” cried Jean Bart, gleefully. “And without a fight. Hurray for the life of a privateer!”
Quickly ranging alongside, the stranger was seen to be a valuable prize, laden with tea, spices, and cotton. She was manned by a small crew and sent to port.
“Now off for other luck!” cried Jean Bart.
Luck was with him, too. In four months cruising in the English Channel, near the Belgian coast, he captured six prizes; all without any fighting. The Dutch trading vessels of those days must have been without guns and poorly manned, for it should have been easy to stand off a crew of but thirty-six, with only two cannon aboard. Jean Bart—you may be sure—was well satisfied. He was now rich, quite famous, and keen for further adventure.
So well did the owners of the privateer King David think of him, that they now put him in charge of a larger vessel named La Royale, carrying about eighty men and ten guns.
“Go out and win!” cried the chief owner of this privateer. “Jean Bart, you are followed by the best blood of France. Your men are all from Dunkirk!”
And Jean Bart smiled.