"I fear the wind's dropping, Mr. Rogers," he said to the first mate, who paced the deck beside him. "We shall have a calm shortly," and within another half-hour the wind moderated, and shortly after that it blew spasmodically, and the frigate, now only two leagues away, was "laying on and off," trying to catch every breath of wind. The sails then flapped idly against the masts, and there followed a dead calm, when both ships lay helpless upon a mirrored sheet of glass.
A puff of blue smoke broke away from one of the starboard guns of the enemy, as she now lay broadside on towards the English ship, and then--
"Boom!" came a report, rumbling over the water.
At the same instant the French flag was broken at the mast-head.
"I thought as much, lads! Now we know who she is, and what she wants. That shot is a demand for surrender. What are those other flags he's hanging out, Mr. Hudson?"
"He's signalling, sir. Wants to know if we've struck. What shall I tell him, sir?"
"Tell him we haven't struck yet, but we'll do so as soon as he comes a little nearer, in the same way that Englishmen always strike."
At these words, which were heard all over the ship, a rousing cheer, which the Frenchman must have heard and wondered at, rang across the water, for it summed up the feelings of every man aboard. Shortly after this, the event which every one was expecting, from the captain down to the youngest cabin boy, happened.
"They're preparing to lower away the boats, sir. They mean to cut us out," came from the fore-top.
"Stand ready, my lads. Load every gun with grape-shot, lads, but don't fire till I give the order."