“Half a mile, sir,” was the prompt answer.
“Large or small, should you say?”
“Large, sir,” said True Blue.
“English or French? I take it that there is a difference in the sound.”
“And so there is, sir,” quickly replied True Blue. “I marked it when we were aboard the Ralieuse; and now, sir, you ask me, I should say they were French.”
“Very clear, indeed,” remarked the first lieutenant. “Go into the weather-rigging, Freeborn, and keep your eyes about you and your ears open, and report anything more you may discover.”
Mr Brine then went into the cabin to consult with the Captain. The sentry was ordered, when his half-hour glass was run out, to turn it, but not to sound the bell; and the word was passed along the decks to keep the ship as quiet as possible.
It was possible that they were in the presence of a greatly superior force of the enemy. The frigate’s course, however, was not altered. The breeze was freshening, and any moment the veil might be lifted from the face of the waters, and the vessels floating on it disclosed to each other. Everything on board the frigate was prepared for flight or battle; and, in spite of the probability of having to contend with a superior force, the crew showed by their remarks that they would infinitely prefer the latter to the former alternative.
The only two, probably, on board who wished to avoid a fight were Sam Smatch and Gregory Gipples, who still remained on board. Poor Gregory would gladly have followed some more pacific calling, but his poverty, and not his will, compelled him to be a sailor. Besides, he was now a big, stout, well-fed fellow, and could pull and haul as well as many seamen; and in those days the pressgang took care that once a sailor, a man should remain always a sailor. Big as he was, and inclined to bully all fresh hands, Tim Fid defied him, and never ceased playing him tricks and quizzing him.
“Gipples, my boy, they say that there are three big Frenchmen coming down upon us, and that we are to fight them all!” cried Fid, giving his messmate a dig in the ribs. “One down, t’other come on, I hope it will be; but whether we drub them or not, some of us will be losing the number of our mess.”