After the meal was concluded, which was not at all hurried, the man-o'-war was near enough to be distinguished with the naked eye.
"Do you recognize that frigate, Mr. Reed?"
"Yes, sir. It is the Leda, Captain Campbell."
"One of your blockading fleet?"
"Yes, sir."
The frigate, with every sail set, now came up fast.
"I am about as near to her as is prudent," said the captain, and gave orders to launch the gig.
He then said, "Now, Mr. Reed, there is one of your own fleet. You are at liberty to depart with a fair wind and a fresh crew. Your captain, I believe, don't like us Yankees; but give my respects to him, and add whatever you think proper."
All sail was made on the brigantine, and, by the time the boat reached the frigate, she was nearing the harbor of Marseilles.
Notwithstanding Nelson's prejudices (certainly not groundless), the Arthur Brown had not been a week in Marseilles when a flag of truce came in, and by it came a letter to the captain from the midshipman, enclosing a note from Nelson, thanking him for the rescue of his officer, and the kindness manifested to both him and his crew.