The "Wasp" had been nearly two months out, when she fell in with one of the enemy's sloops. This was the "Reindeer," commanded by Capt. William Manners, a young officer whose gallantry was unsurpassed by that of any of his comrades in the English service. His ship was less in force than the "Wasp," for she carried twenty-four-pound carronades instead of thirty-twos; but nevertheless he no sooner sighted the American than he made sail to attack her. Blakely too was ready for the combat, and shaped his course to meet the enemy.
So the vessels approached under a light breeze during the whole forenoon, and it was not till after one o'clock that they beat to quarters and cleared ship for action. For two hours both were now manœuvring for an advantage as deftly as two skilful fencers, but the two captains were equally good at this, and neither could score a point against his adversary. At length, soon after three o'clock, the "Reindeer," being then at a distance of sixty yards on the "Wasp's" weather-quarter, opened on her with careful aim from the shifting carronade on her top-gallant forecastle, to which the "Wasp" could not reply. Five times this was repeated, at intervals sometimes of two, sometimes of three minutes, the fire of round and grape shot making destructive work on board the unresisting American.
The "Wasp's" crew were well trained, and nothing showed it more than the quiet steadiness and nerve with which they bore this trial. But Captain Blakely, finding that the enemy did not advance beyond his quarter, luffed, and so brought his broadside to bear. Then began a furious and deadly conflict, for the ships were close abreast, and in the smooth water there was no motion to disturb the pointing of the guns. But it was on board the "Reindeer" that the carnage was most dreadful. In fifteen minutes her upper works became a wreck, and more than half her crew were killed or wounded. The topmen of the "Wasp" picked them off with their muskets one by one. The gallant Manners was badly wounded early in the action, but remained on deck. A grape-shot passed through both his thighs. He fell, but raised himself; and staggering to his feet, the blood streaming from his wounds, he fought on, encouraging his men. At last the two ships fouled, and Manners, true hero that he was, climbed up by the rigging, calling out, "Follow me, my boys, we must board!" But at that instant two bullets pierced his head, and he fell lifeless to the deck. A moment later the crew of the "Wasp" had rushed on board his ship, and she surrendered.
After this battle, so glorious for both sides, Blakely put into Lorient. His prize was so disabled that he burned her the day after the fight, and the wounded prisoners were sent to England in a Portuguese brig. Refitting at the French port, Blakely set sail again toward the end of August. On the 1st of September he was on the edge of the Bay of Biscay. He had already made two prizes since leaving port, and on this day he was hanging about a fleet of English merchantmen bound for Gibraltar, under convoy of the line-of-battle ship "Armada." The clumsy seventy-four twice tried to catch him, but the sloop was too nimble for her, and ended by cutting out one of the convoy under her very eyes.
Blakely was now on the spot most frequented by British cruisers; for all that went to and fro between England and the Mediterranean must pass that way, and it behooved him to be upon his guard. At dusk that same evening he discovered four sail whose character he could not make out. But he stood boldly down for one of them, and after a two hours' pursuit, in which the chase had made repeated night-signals that he could not answer, he discovered that she was a large man-of-war brig. An hour later, and the ships were near enough to hail.
"What ship is that?" asked the stranger through the darkness.
"What brig is that?" asked Blakely in return.
"What ship is that?"
"Heave to, and I'll let you know what ship it is."
But the stranger did not heave to, and presently the "Wasp" opened on her.