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5. CHAPTER V.

“Now, Pills, you'll have a chance to smell powder,”
said Briggs as he entered the cockpit and

buckled around his waist an enormous cutlass.
“We have just sighted a French ship.”

We went on deck. Captain Boltrope grinned as
we touched our hats. He hated the purser. “Come,
young gentlemen, if you're boring for French claret,
yonder's a good quality. Mind your con, sir,” he
added, turning to the quartermaster, who was grinning.

The ship was already cleared for action. The men,
in their eagerness, had started the coffee from the
the tubs and filled them with shot. Presently the
Frenchman yawed, and a shot from a long thirty-two
came skipping over the water. It killed the quartermaster
and took off both of Lankey's legs. “Tell
the purser our account is squared,” said the dying
boy, with a feeble smile.

The fight raged fiercely for two hours. I remember
killing the French Admiral, as we boarded, but
on looking around for Briggs, after the smoke had
cleared away, I was intensly amused at witnessing
the following novel sight:

Briggs had pinned the French captain against the
mast with his cutlass, and was now engaged, with all
the hilarity of youth, in pulling the captain's coattails
between his legs, in imitation of a dancing-jack.
As the Frenchman lifted his legs and arms, at each
jerk of Briggs's, I could not help participating in
the general mirth.

“You young devil, what are you doing?” said a
stifled voice behind me. I looked up and beheld
Captain Boltrope, endeavoring to calm his stern fea

[ILLUSTRATION]

The secret panel in the wall.—(After BRADDON.) See page 38.

[Description: 566EAF. Illustration Page. Image of girl standing in front of a secret wall compartment. Bracelets and necklaces lie on the floor at her feet.]

tures, but the twitching around his mouth betrayed
his intense enjoyment of the scene. “Go to the
masthead—up with you, sir!” he repeated sternly to
Briggs.

“Very good, sir,” said the boy, coolly preparing to
mount the shrouds. “Good-bye, Johnny Crapaud.
Humph!” he added, in a tone intended for my ear,
“A pretty way to treat a hero—the service is going
to the devil!”

I thought so too.