Part 23

Jean Bart still smoked.

"You are too quick!" he answered, slowly. "There you are wrong. I am not your prisoner, for I see a barrel of gunpowder on the deck, and, if you do not release me immediately, I will blow up your ship!"

The Englishman turned pale.

"Watch me!" cried Jean Bart.

Leaping from his seat, he rushed to the deck, lighted a match from his pipe, and held it directly over the mouth of a barrel of gunpowder, from which someone had pried the head.

"Lay on! You cowards!" he yelled. "Lay on, and we'll all go to the Land of the Hereafter together."

His cry was heard upon his own vessel, which--with sails up--lay waiting for him.

In a moment her bow was turned towards the British ship which was still at anchor, with sails unhoisted. In a moment she dropped down alongside--and--in less time than it takes to tell--the Frenchmen had brought her upon the port quarter, and were swarming across the deck to rescue their bold captain.

Taken by surprise, the English put up a plucky fight, but they were no match for the infuriated men of Dunkirk. They were soon overpowered. The captain was taken prisoner, and the vessel was considered a legitimate prize of war, because of the trick which Middleton had attempted to play upon Jean Bart. When--in a few days--the prize was sailed into Dunkirk harbor--the Englishman well wished that he had not attempted to capture the most able privateersman of all France.

The fame of this exploit spread over the land, and gave rise to a ditty, which ran:

"If you want to catch Jean Bart, sir, A slippery, slimy chap, Don't bait him with gunpowder, For he's sure to miss the trap. You must splice him down with chains, sir; You must nail him to the deck. Put a belt around his middle, And a collar 'round his neck. Even then you cannot hold him, For he's certain to get through, While his sailors sing a song, sir, With a Cock- a- doodle- doo!"

In July, 1675, Jean Bart was married, but he did not remain long on shore. Three weeks after this auspicious event he once more put to sea and captured a number of Dutch fishing boats, which he allowed the captains to ransom for large sums of money.

This was a very convenient arrangement, for it saved him the trouble of putting part of his own crew on board and sending the boats to port. But the owners of La Royale, upon which he sailed, did not care for his methods of procedure.

"You cannot do this in future!" said they. "And you must forfeit half of what you took to us!"

Jean Bart obeyed, but he was very angry. It is even said that he uttered "a round seaman's oath."

So successful was he, in fact, that he was given a much larger vessel in 1676. This was a frigate--the Palme--with twenty-four guns and a crew of one hundred and fifty men. Sailing into the North Sea with two small French gun-boats, he soon fell in with three Dutch privateers and eight armed whaling vessels. He attacked, and the battle raged for three long, bloody hours.

When the smoke and the fumes of sulphur burned away, Bart had boarded the largest privateer, while his two consorts had taken the eight whalers. The other Dutch privateers found it too hot for their liking and scudded for the coast, firing their stern-guns derisively as they disappeared. It was a great victory, and again the French coast rung with salvos for Jean Bart, while the old sea-dogs shrugged their shoulders, saying:

"Ah! Ha! Did we not tell you that Dunkirk bred men of bone and marrow. Ah! Ha!"

But Jean Bart was not happy.

"Would that I could meet a foe of my own force," he used to say. "Either a man-of-war or a privateer, I don't care which. I want to try it on with one of my own size and strength."

His wish was soon to be gratified.

On September 7th, 1676, he was pointing the Palme towards the Belgian coast-line, when he sighted a number of sail on the starboard quarter. He headed for them; scanned the white dots through a glass, and saw that this was a fishing fleet of small, unarmed luggers. But a big, hulking Dutch frigate hovered in their rear, and thirty-two guns pointed their brown muzzles menacingly from her open port-holes. She was the Neptune and she lazed along like a huge whale: omnipotent and self-satisfied.

"Ah ha!" cried the delighted Jean Bart. "Now I have met an enemy that is worthy of my steel. Up with the flag and sail into yonder Dutchman. We have but twenty-four guns to her thirty-two, but are we to be awed by this show of force? Be ready, my boys, to have the stiffest fight in your careers!"

The Dutchman was equally well pleased when he saw who was coming for him.

"Here is Jean Bart, the pirate and privateer," he cried. "For three years I've been hoping to have a fight with him and now my chance has come at last. I am fortunate, for I can pay him back for all the damage that he has done to Dutch commerce. Shoot low, my hearties, and do not fail to hull our enemy. Let your war-cry be: 'Down with Jean Bart and his pirate crew!'"

"Hurrah!" shouted his men.

And an answering

"Hurray!" came from the Palme. These opponents were as eager to get at each other as two prize-fighters of modern days.