the end of that spar, a brace of heavy chain-shot could be swung up and

pitched headlong into any boat alongside. While the crew of Scudamore's

launch were intent upon boarding the prame, one of these boats came

swiftly from under her stern, and with one fling swamped the enemy. Then

the Frenchmen laughed heartily, and offered oars and buoys for the poor

British seamen to come up as prisoners.

Scudamore saw that he was trapped beyond escape, for no other British

boat was anywhere in hail. His first impulse was to jump overboard and

help his own drowning men, but before he could do so an officer stood

before him, and said, "Monsieur is my prisoner. His men will be safe,

and I cannot permit him to risk his own life. Mon Dieu, it is my dear

friend Captain Scudamore!"

"And you, my old friend, Captain Desportes! I see it is hopeless to

resist"--for by this time a score of Frenchmen were round him--"I can

only congratulate myself that if I must fall, it is into such good

hands."

"My dear friend, how glad I am to see you!" replied the French captain,

embracing him warmly; "to you I owe more than to any man of your nation.

I will not take your sword. No, no, my friend. You shall not be

a prisoner, except in word. And how much you have advanced in the

knowledge of our language, chiefly, I fear, at the expense of France.

And now you will grow perfect, at the expense of England."

CHAPTER XLVII

ENTER AND EXIT

The summer having been fine upon the whole, and a very fair quantity

of fish brought in, Miss Twemlow had picked up a sweetheart, as the

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