Part 24

Crash! roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate as her flag went aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went her shells around the sides of the privateer.

"Sail in close!" yelled Jean Bart. "Hug her to leeward for awhile, then cross her bows, rake her, get her wind, and board."

"Hurray!" shouted the men of Dunkirk, and a rattle, rattle, roar came from the port guns of the Palme.

Around and around swung the sea gladiators and the little fishing boats luffed and tittered on the waves like inquisitive sparrows.

"Bart cannot win!" said several of their skippers. "For he's outweighted and outnumbered!"

But Bart was fighting like John Paul Jones.

Around and around went the two opponents, guns growling, men cheering, sails slapping and ripping with the chain and solid shot. Again and again Jean Bart endeavored to get a favorable position for boarding and again and again he was forced to tack away by the quick manoeuvres of the Dutchman.

"Fire into her rigging!" he now thundered. "Cripple those topsails and I can bring my boat alongside."

"Crash! Crash! Crash!"

Volley after volley puffed from the side of the rolling Palme. Volley after volley poured its lead and iron into the swaying rigging of the Dutchman, and, with a great roaring, ripping, and smashing, the mizzen topmast came toppling over the lee rail.

A lusty cheer sounded from the deck of the Palme.

"She's ours!" cried Jean Bart, smiling.

Instantly he spun over the wheel, luffed, and brought his boat upon the starboard quarter of the Dutchman, who was now part helpless. It took but a moment to run alongside, and, in a moment more, the Palme was lashed to the Neptune in a deadly embrace. Smoke rolled from the sides of both contestants and the roar of the guns drowned the shrill cries of the wounded. The Dutchmen were now desperate and their guns were spitting fire in rapid, successive volleys; but many of them were silenced, as the great, brown side of the Palme rubbed its planking against the splintered railing of the shattered Neptune.

As the vessels were securely bound together, Jean Bart seized a boarding-pike, a brace of pistols, and, giving the helm to a sailor, leaped into the waist of his ship.

"Board! Board!" he shouted.

A wild yelp greeted these welcome sounds. As he vaulted over the rail of his own ship to the deck of the stranger, a motley crew of half-wild sea-savages swarmed behind him. They had cutlasses and boarding-pikes, and their faces were blackened with powder. Their eyes were reddened with sulphurous fumes and their clothes torn with splintered planking. They rolled over the gunwales like a huge wave of irresistible fire: pistols spitting, pikes gleaming, cutlasses glistening in the rays of the sun.

The captain of the Neptune lay near his own wheel, grievously wounded.

"Lay on, men!" he shouted. "Don't let this French privateer beat us. We will be disgraced."

But his sailors were no match for the onrush of these fiends from Dunkirk. They fell back like foam before a sea squall.

"Then down with our flag," cried the captain of the Dutchman. "But, ye gods, how it hurts me to give the order."

A sailor seized the halyards and pulled the ensign to the deck, and, as it fell upon the reddened planking, a wild, frenzied cheer came from the French privateers.

"Jean Bart, forever! France forever! Jean Bart forever!" they cried.

"Up with the French flag!" yelled Jean Bart, laughing like a boy. "Up with the white lilies of France."

And, as a spare ensign ran aloft, the little fishing luggers scudded for the shore.

"After them, men!" cried Captain Bart. "Our work is not yet over. We must have the lambs as well as the old wolf."

So, sail was soon clapped on the Palme, she headed for the fleeing boats, and, with a few well directed shots, hove them to. Then they were told to follow behind and head for France, which they did--but, oh! how it did hurt!

It was a proud moment for Jean Bart, and his eyes danced with pleasure when he sailed into Dunkirk with the captured Neptune and the fleet of fishing boats.

"Voilà!" cried the townspeople. "Jean Bart is a true hero. Voilà! He shall have the freedom of the city. Voilà!"