a tussock of grass, with Rob's head upon my knee, and there as we sat
alone in peace in the wilderness, even there we saw suddenly thrown upon
the waters in front of us the shadow of that great man over yonder, who
had scrawled his name in red letters across the map of Europe.
There was a ship coming up with the wind, a black sedate old
merchant-man, bound for Leith as likely as not. Her yards were square
and she was running with all sail set. On the other tack, coming from
the north-east, were two great ugly lugger-like craft, with one high
mast each, and a big square brown sail. A prettier sight one would not
wish than to see the three craft dipping along upon so fair a day.
But of a sudden there came a spurt of flame and a whirl of blue smoke
from one lugger, then the same from the second, and a rap, rap, rap,
from the ship. In a twinkling hell had elbowed out heaven, and there on
the waters was hatred and savagery and the lust for blood.

We had sprung to our feet at the outburst, and Edie put her hand all in
a tremble upon my arm.

"They are fighting, Jack!" she cried. "What are they? Who are they?"

My heart was thudding with the guns, and it was all that I could do to
answer her for the catch of my breath.

"It's two French privateers, Edie," said I, "Chasse-marries, they call
them, and yon's one of our merchant ships, and they'll take her as sure
as death; for the Major says they've always got heavy guns, and are as
full of men as an egg is full of meat. Why doesn't the fool make back
for Tweedmouth bar?"

But not an inch of canvas did she lower, but floundered on in her stolid