tell you. I heard the story partly from Midshipman Farragut——"

"You know him?"

"Of course I do."

"And yet when Buller was reviling him at the Battery you did not defend him."

"No! It would have been an impertinence for a privateer captain to defend a naval officer."

"But young Farragut did not know——"

"Bertha Decatur, no; but I do, and she sang your praises so often that I wanted to find you. Farragut quietly pointed you out in the crowd at the Battery, and—well, here you are."

"A man before the mast."

"No. You were ensign in the navy, where promotion is slow; you shall be first officer on the Lively Bee. Will you accept?"

"How can I thank you?"

"By doing your duty. I am proud to have you, Tempest, and I don't think you will ever rue the day you became first officer on the Lively Bee."

"I accept your generous offer."

"You have done well. I am a good skipper, I can steer a vessel as well as any man, and I can fight, but sometimes a little science which you naval fellows have is very useful. I shall expect you to be as ardent an enemy of the British as I am. Show no quarter, have no mercy, send every British ship to Davy Jones' locker if you can't take it captive. Let your motto be, as mine is, eternal hatred to British rule."

"I will swear it if necessary."

"No, Tempest, the word of an honest man is all I need. Be watchful."

"I will make no boast, captain, but I think you will find I can do without food or sleep as long as any man, and my vigilance shall never give you a moment's uneasiness."

"I know it. Now, there is another thing. Although the Lively Bee is a privateer, we are most punctilious about dress. We are uniformed when at sea."

"But——"

"In yonder room, which will be yours, you will find a first officer's uniform, which, if I mistake not, will be a fair fit for you. If it wants altering, we have an excellent tailor on board."

"How thoughtful you are, captain."

"Thank you for the compliment. Now go and dress, and I will introduce you to your brother officers."

John Tempest was surprised at the size and comfort of his stateroom.

It was far superior to the one he occupied on the Essex.

He thought it was fit for a lady's bower, and as he thought it he remembered Bertha, and his love for her.

"What will she say of my becoming a privateer?" he asked himself. "Surely the risk is enough. If I am captured, I shall be hanged. If I am shot, I shall die for my country. If Farragut recognizes my captain, why should I be ashamed of him? I will do my duty, and will win Bertha."

He dressed in the uniform, and looked as handsome a privateer as ever walked a deck.

When he stepped up the companionway to the deck, he was met by the captain.

"Welcome, Lieutenant Tempest," he said, grasping the young officer's hand.

Turning to the officers, he said in his usual hearty manner:

"Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Tempest, my first officer, an able seaman, as I can vouch, an honest man, and an inveterate hater of England. For ten generations his family has been noted for its patriotism, and the Lively Bee will have the advantage of his name, fame and honor. Lieutenant Tempest, Mr. Scarron and Mr. Webster. I hope you will all be good friends."

Scarron and Webster were typical sailors.

Blunt almost to uncouthness, they looked just what they were—able seamen, good fighters and not overburdened with education or politeness.

"I was first officer on a whaler," said Scarron as he further introduced himself.

"And I was a merchant skipper till the French seized my ship and I paid away every cent I had as ransom. Now I'm a privateer and ready to fight."

CHAPTER IV.

THE CHALLENGE.

Captain Vernon was one of the most uneasy men living.

He could not keep still.

Action was the watchword of his life.

He was a handsome man, young—that is, he had not reached his fortieth year—straight as an arrow, with firmness imprinted on every feature.

He could not have lived on a slow boat. He would have gone crazy.

Had he been on a man-of-war crawling along at two knots an hour, he would most likely have deserted.

On the Lively Bee he was the most active man.

He owned the vessel, and was proud of it.

When there was a rumor of war, he hurried to Washington and applied for a lettre de marque.

For those of our readers who do not understand the expression, we explain that a letter of marque gave permission to the owner of a private vessel to make war on another nation. Without this letter of authority, such war would be piracy. All nations, at the time of the war of 1812, issued letters of marque, and recognized the privateers as belligerents, often however ignoring the authority in the case of prisoners, and hanging the officers as pirates.

Captain Vernon had two objects to serve in his war on the English. He hated the British, and he wanted to enrich himself by prize money.

The Lively Bee was outside Sandy Hook, and was making nearly five knots an hour.

Every man on board had to work at racehorse speed, for the captain was always on the alert. Everything and everybody about him must be the fastest and best possible.

Although the war ships had started almost as soon as the privateer, they were nowhere in sight.

"Sail ho!"

The alarm was given by Scarron.

"Whereaway?"

"I see it, captain," said Tempest, pointing to a white speck on the horizon.

The captain took the glass and looked long and earnestly in the direction.

"She is in cruising canvas only. Most probably a merchantman," he said, as he handed the glass to Tempest.

"No, captain, she is a war ship, and British at that."

"Think so?"

"I'll bet my last dollar she's British, but she's too big for us to tackle."

Tempest paced the deck uneasily.

Here was a British war ship almost within fighting distance, and she was to be allowed to escape.

"Captain, a word with you."

"What is it, Tempest?"

"Have you a long-range gun on board?"

"A thirty-four pounder. Why?"

"Because I would like to draw closer to that Britisher and give her a shot."

"Is not that a dangerous game?"

"It is a risk. I think she only carries light-weight guns, perhaps twelve-pounders."

"Why do you think so?"

"Instinct. But apart from that feeling, you will find she is a French-rigged frigate, and they seldom carry anything above a twelve-pounder."

"You can take the risk if you like, Tempest."

"May I?"

"Yes, but you will be responsible for the Lively Bee."

It was a terrible responsibility for the young man to take, but there was something about him which inspired confidence, and Captain Vernon wanted to see of what mettle the man was made.

Orders were given, and the little schooner sailed direct for the big wars-man.

"Captain, we are within gunshot distance. What shall we do?"

Vernon walked aft, saying as he did so:

"You took the responsibility; do the best you can."

"Very well, captain."

On went the schooner until it was so close that the big Britisher seemed to shut out all view of the horizon.

"Scarron! we are going to beat to quarters."

"Sir! Mr. Tempest, sir!"

"I said we were going to beat to quarters. Have you any objections?"

"Seems to me we'll die