This was an expedition that delighted our young Lieutenant, and excited all on board. Bill Saunders, who followed our hero like a shadow, and who had shipped on board the Diamond the moment he heard of Lieutenant Thornton’s appointment, was one of the crew of the launch, and in high glee. Bill was a special favourite with officers and men, for he was not only a first-rate seaman, but always steady and sober, as fond of a lark as a boy, but knew when to enjoy one without infringing on his duty.
There were five boats in all, and in number about fifty-two men, but, excepting the launch, the boats had only muskets. Sir Sidney himself embarked in a two-oared wherry.
It was very little after ten o’clock when the expedition pushed off from the side of the Diamond. Sir Sidney had in the wherry with him a young midshipman named Beecroft, and in the launch with our hero was another midshipman named Westly Wright. The night was extremely calm, but not very dark; they could see the shore of the Seine on both sides and the lights in the town of Havre.
Sir Sidney led the boats, however, in the wherry; and having pulled on in regular order till perfectly in sight of the lugger, they all paused till their Commander should fix upon the mode of attack.
“It is a hazardous exploit, Mr. Thornton,” said the midshipman sitting beside our hero, “for our Commander to lead in this affair; should anything happen, the Diamond is in a precarious position.”
“Her master is an able pilot,” returned Lieutenant Thornton, “and I trust nothing will happen to our high-spirited and most kind-hearted Commander, though I confess I wish there was a breeze, if it was ever so light, for the tide is beginning to make up the river.”
The wherry rode up, and Sir Sidney ordered the boats to take a broad steer between the shore and the lugger, so as to assume the appearance of fishing-boats coming out of the harbour.
This they accordingly did; and the ruse succeeded, or what is more probable, a bad look-out was kept on board the Vengeance, but the boats finally made for the object of their attack without any symptoms of their being noticed. Our hero resolved to reserve his fire until the lugger should open upon them. They had reached to within pistol-shot, when a wreath of smoke curled out from the lugger’s side, and a shower of grape passed over the boats, tearing up the water, splintering the side of the launch, and wounding two men.
“Now, my lads,” exclaimed our hero, “pepper them! And stand by, Bill Saunders, ready to grapple her.”
“Aye, aye, sir; we must not let her go this time.”