of sugar. During the voyage, before his crew had been hammered
into shape, he beat off a British privateer of twenty guns and
safely tacked into the Bay of Biscay.

There he sighted another hostile privateer, the Golden Eagle,
larger than his own ship. Instead of shifting his course to avoid
her, Haraden clapped on sail and steered alongside after
nightfall, roaring through his trumpet: "What ship is this? An
American frigate, sir. Strike, or I'll sink you with a
broadside."

Dazed by this unexpected summons in the gloom, the master of the
Golden Eagle promptly surrendered, and a prize crew was thrown
aboard with orders to follow the Pickering into Bilbao. While
just outside that Spanish harbor, a strange sail was descried and
again Jonathan Haraden cleared for action. The vessel turned out
to be the Achilles, one of the most powerful privateers out of
London, with forty guns and a hundred and fifty men, or almost
thrice the fighting strength of the little Pickering. She was, in
fact, more like a sloop of war. Before Captain Haraden could haul
within gunshot to protect his prize, it had been recaptured by
the Achilles, which then maneuvered to engage the Pickering.

Darkness intervened, but Jonathan Haraden had no idea of escaping
under cover of it. He was waiting for the morning breeze and a
chance to fight it out to a finish. He was a handsome man with an
air of serene composure and a touch of the theatrical such as
Nelson displayed in his great moments. Having prepared his ship
for battle, he slept soundly until dawn and then dressed with
fastidious care to stroll on deck, where he beheld the Achilles