“Watch me!” said he.
Cruising near the coast of Holland in company with a small French gun-boat, he fell in with a man-of-war—the Esperance—carrying twelve guns and about one hundred and twenty men.
“Now we’ll have a real fight!” cried the youthful French commander as he cleared decks for action. “Men, see to it that your swords are sharpened for there may be some boarding!”
Then he signalled to the little French gun-boat to follow him and give battle. This ally carried about a hundred men and six cannon.
“Poof! Poof!”
The heavy guns of the Dutchman were the first to speak and they barked away like fat Newfoundland watch-dogs.
“Poof! Poof! B-o-o-m!”
Jean Bart reserved his fire until within about seventy-five yards and then he gave the command,
“Fire away! Aim low! And try to hull her!”
A sheet of flame sprang from the ten guns of La Royale and a splitting of boards and crackling of splinters showed that the iron missiles had punctured the stout sides of the Esperance.