Among the many accomplishments Ronald had obtained at Lunnasting was a certain amount of French. He could not speak fluently, but he could understand what was said. He could not help asking the surgeon what he thought about the stranger coming up from the southward.
“That she is one of the fastest frigates belonging to our navy,” was the answer. “We were expecting her here about this time; you have no chance of escaping her. We were to have cruised together; perhaps we shall do so now.”
“Ask him what sort of a man is her captain,” said Mr Calder, who saw Ronald talking to the surgeon.
Ronald put the question.
“There are two opinions,” said the surgeon, making a face. “He would be a coward who would refuse to attack our late antagonist in the condition to which we have reduced her.”
“All right,” observed Mr Calder, when he heard the remark; “if there are two opinions about a man’s courage it is seldom that the favourable one is the right; we shall see, though.”
In accordance with his orders, though much against his inclination, Lieutenant Calder stood away from the scene of the approaching combat.
A flash and a puff of smoke was seen, and soon afterwards a low thundering noise boomed along the waters. The French frigate had fired her first shot at the “Thisbe.”
“I hope it did not hit her!” exclaimed Morton. “Oh, how I wish we were there to help her!”
The same sentiment was expressed by all on board.