He
only got red in the face, and said that he had crossed the
herring-pond hundreds of times in crafts not half so seaworthy. He was
like the
Froggy who would a wooing go,
Whether his mother would let him or no.
The consequences of this defiance of advice were fatal to Old Flyblow;
for, a week or two after his victory, he was pounced upon by the
French corvette, _Boudeuse_, which was fresh, heavily armed, and well
manned. The commodore's jury masts were knocked to pieces by the first
broadside, his flag went by the board, and he was completely at the
enemy's mercy. Willis lent a hand this time with a good will; but it
was of no use, the wreck would not obey the helm, and the corvette
hovered about, firing broadsides, and sending in discharges of
musketry, when and where she liked. It was only when the commodore saw
clearly that there was neither mast nor sail enough to yaw the ship,
that he waved his cocked hat in token of surrender.
Fritz and Jack were still confined below with their wounds, when
Willis brought them word that they would have to shift themselves and
their cargo once more. The captain received them on board the
_Boudeuse_ with marked courtesy, and informed them that he was bound
direct for Havre de Grace.
"It seems, then," said the Pilot, "that neither America nor England
is to be our destination after all.
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