"And what will you do, captain?"
"We shall send another messenger back, to tell her to mind her own business. Then it will be a question of good shooting. If we can knock out one of her masts, we shall get off; if we can't, the chances are we shall see the inside of a French prison.
"If she once gets alongside, it is all up with us. She can carry us, by boarding; for she can throw three times our strength of men on to our deck."
There was but little talking on board the brig. When the men had finished their preparations, they stood waiting by the bulwarks; watching the vessel in chase of them, and occasionally speaking together in low tones.
"You may as well pipe the hands to breakfast, Mr. Probert. I have told the cook to give them an extra good meal. After that, I will say a few words to them.
"Now, Master Repton, we may as well have our meal. We mayn't get another good one, for some time; but I still hope that we shall be able to cripple that fellow. I have great faith in that long eighteen. The boatswain is an old man-o'-war's-man, and is a capital shot. I am a pretty good one, myself and, as the sea is smooth, and we have a good steady platform to fire from, I have good hope we shall cripple that fellow before he comes up to us."
There was more talking than usual, at breakfast. Captain Lockett and the second mate both laughed, and joked, over the approaching fight. Mr. Probert was always a man of few words, and he said but little, now.
"The sooner they come up, the better," he growled. "I hate this running away, especially when you can't run fastest."
"The men will all do their best, I suppose, Probert? You have been down among them."
The first mate nodded.