De Courval, on hearing this, replied, "His Majesty's schooner St. George, privateer of Bristol."
"But, mon Dieu," cried the bewildered man, "this ship is American. It is piracy."
"No, monsieur; she was carrying provisions to a French port." The persistent claim of England, known as the "provision order," was well in force, and was to make trouble enough before it was abandoned.
The officer, furious, said: "You speak too well our tongue. Ah, if I had you on shore!"
De Courval laughed. "Adieu, Citizen." The boat put off for the port, and the two ships made all sail.
By and by the captain called to De Courval to come to the cabin. "Well, Mr. Lewis,—if that is to be your name,—we are only at the beginning of our troubles. These seas will swarm with ships of war and English privateers, and we must stay by this old tub. If she is caught, they will go over the manifest and take all they want out of her, and men, too, damn 'em."
"I see," said De Courval. "Is there anything to do but take our chance on the sea?"
"I shall run north and get away from the islands out of their cruising grounds."
"What if we run over to Martinique? How long would it take?"