The captain and most of the officers were on the quarter-deck, keeping their glasses on the enemy.
“The leading ship under French colours appears to me to carry sixty-four guns,” observed the first lieutenant to the captain; “and the next, also a Frenchmen, looks like a thirty-six gun frigate. The brig is American, and so is one of the sloops. The sternmost is French, and is a biggish ship.”
“Whatever they are, we’ll fight them, and, I hope, take one or two at least,” answered the captain.
He looked at his watch. It was just ten o’clock. The next moment the headmost ship opened her fire, and the shot came whizzing between the ship’s masts.
Captain Waring watched them as they flew through the air.
“I thought so,” he observed. “There were not more than fifteen; she’s a store-ship, and will be our prize before the day is over. Fire, my lads!” he shouted; and the eager crew poured a broadside into the enemy, rapidly running in their guns, and reloading them to be ready for the next opponent.
The Foxhound was standing along the enemy’s line to windward, and as she came abreast of each ship she fired with well-directed aim; and though all the enemy’s ships in succession discharged their guns at her, not a shot struck her hull, though their object evidently was to cripple her, so that they might surround her and have her at their mercy.
Tom, who had read about sea-fights, and had expected to have the shot come rushing across the deck, felt much more comfortable on discovering this, and began to look upon the Frenchmen as very bad gunners.
The Foxhound’s guns were all this time thundering away as fast as the crews could run them in and load them, the men warming to their work as they saw the damage they were inflicting on the enemy.
Having passed the enemy’s line to windward, Captain Waring ordered the ship to be put about, and bore down on the sternmost French ship, which, with one of smaller size carrying the American pennant, was in a short time so severely treated that they both bore up out of the line. The Foxhound, however, followed, and the other French ships and the American brig coming to the assistance of their consorts, the Foxhound had them on both sides of her.