“We shall pass close to that other frigate, William, at anchor within there; but the ebb will make before we get much further.”
“I wish we could just give that lugger a shot, en passant,” said our hero.
“Ah, mon ami,” replied Lieutenant O’Loughlin, “now we have other fish to fry.”
The Diamond continued under weigh till daylight appeared, and then could be discerned two ships coming through the Geulet (as it is called) de Brest, and in Cameret Road could be counted fifteen small craft at anchor, and a large ship aground on Menow point.
About eight o’clock in the morning, Sir Sidney, having surveyed all round with his glass, declared that there were no ships of war in Brest Road; the Diamond, therefore, was kept away towards St. Mathieu.
“Now, by Jove!” said Lieutenant O’Loughlin, “will be the tug of war; depend on it we shall be challenged by yonder fort.”
“That is the Château de Bertheaume,” observed our hero, who, an hour before, had been studying the chart of Brest harbour. “Ah! there go the signals.”
All hands were on the alert on board the Diamond, and up went the national colours of France in the frigate. As they stood in, a French corvette, sailing along Bertheaume Bay, seemed not to admire the appearance of the Diamond, or, at all events, to become suspicious, for several signals were hoisted, and she hauled in close under the Château.
The Diamond was now compelled to pass within hail of the French line-of-battle ship, which was under jury-masts, yards, and topmasts, but did not appear to have any main deck guns, whilst the crew seemed remarkably busy at the pumps, the ship evidently leaking much.
Sir Sidney, who knew Lieutenant Thornton spoke French exceedingly well, desired him to hail, and ask the French Commander if he required assistance. This was done, and the reply was “No.” They said the ship was the Nestor, which had been dismasted in a gale of wind, and had parted from the fleet twenty-seven days before.