Daylight was now coming on, and by its means several boats were seen coming down the Seine, evidently with the intention of trying to recapture the Vengeur. At the same time, however, a small boat was observed approaching from the frigate, and soon afterwards Sir Sydney Smith himself stepped on board.
“My lads,” he said, “I believe that we shall have to fight for our prize, and I have returned to lend a hand in defending her. However, we have more boats and people than are required. Sir Henry Elmore, I must beg you to undertake the charge of landing the prisoners at Honfleur, on the southern bank of the river, in the launch and pinnace, and then return to the Diamond. These are my orders. We must first, however, make the Frenchmen give us their parole not in any way to interfere in whatever takes place. I propose fighting the lugger under weigh, till the breeze and ebb tide enable us to carry her out. The tide will soon make, and I hope to be alongside the frigate in an hour or little more.”
Very unwillingly Sir Henry quitted his gallant chief and friend, taking, of course, True Blue with him.
It was now broad daylight, and all the glasses of the frigate were turned towards the Vengeur. Another large lugger as big as herself was seen approaching her. She got under weigh, and a warm action began.
“She is giving it her!—she is giving it her!” shouted True Blue. “Sir Sydney will beat him, I am certain.”
So it seemed probable by the gallant way in which the Vengeur met her approach. The latter was soon seen to sheer off and drop up the river again, evidently having had fighting enough. Most anxiously a breeze was looked-for.
Though victorious in this instance, the prize was even in a more perilous position than before, having drifted still more up the river, and numerous boats being seen in the distance approaching her. Down they came, their numbers rapidly increasing. Now she opened her fire right and left upon them. They returned it with heavy discharges of musketry, till she was completely surrounded by smoke, an evidence also that she had no breeze to assist her in manoeuvring.
Farther and farther off she drifted, till, with hearts foreboding evil, the spectators on board the Diamond lost sight of her in the distance, surrounded by smoke. In vain they waited. The day wore on; there was not a sign of their gallant Captain and his brave followers, and at length it became too certain that they must have been taken prisoners by the French.
A strong breeze now sprang up. After waiting off the port all the night, the Diamond ran across the Channel, and anchored at Spithead, with the intelligence of Sir Sydney Smith’s capture. The Gannet had not yet appeared, and True Blue, as well as Sir Henry, began to be anxious, fearing that some mishap might have befallen her.
Two days passed by. On the third, True Blue was looking out to the south-east, when he espied two ships standing in towards the anchorage. He looked and looked again. One was, he thought, and yet doubted, the Gannet, so different did she look to the trim and gallant little ship she had but lately been; the other was a craft much of her size, with the English ensign flying over the tricolour of France. The first soon made her number, and left no doubt as to her being the Gannet.