within sight of New York anyway," muttered Scarron.

"Very likely," Tempest calmly replied. "All the same, we shall fight that vessel."

Instead of waiting for Scarron to give the order to the drummer, Tempest did it himself.

No sooner had the roll of the drum been wafted across the waters than there was a change manifest in the attitude of the cruiser.

The crew were now on the alert, and an answering roll of the drum told the little schooner that the Britisher accepted the challenge.

It was perfectly safe to do so.

What chance had a little privateer against a trim, well-built war cruiser?

Tempest had the long gun loaded, and he took sight himself.

The Britisher ran up the Union Jack as a defiance, an act answered by the raising of the Stars and Stripes.

No one on board the cruiser had any idea that the privateer could carry so heavy a gun as a thirty-four-pounder.

The gun was ready, the match applied.

The Lively Bee quivered and shook, but that was all.

The shot tore through the rigging, plowing along the deck of the cruiser, and disabling or killing a dozen men.

A broadside was fired, but the shots fell short of the Lively Bee.

It was as Tempest thought—she had only light guns.

One more shot was fired by the young lieutenant, and a hole was bored in the bow of the cruiser.

"We have taught her a lesson, captain, but we cannot fight her."

"No; what do you intend doing?"

"The fleet is near."

"I see; I think I understand."

Captain Vernon walked down to his cabin, leaving all command in the hands of his young officer.

"He has spunk, and I like him; he has grit and will pull through," he said, as he threw himself down on the seat.

Tempest lowered the Stars and Stripes, and the Britisher took it, as he intended, as a sign of surrender.

The cruiser now showed itself plainly, and its name, the Belvidera, was discernible through the glass.

"I thought she was French," said Tempest.

"What are you going to do, sir?" asked Scarron. "Surrender?"

"No, sir. I shall never surrender until it is to Death. Give orders; let the Lively Bee show her heels to the Britisher, quick, or we may get raked with shot."

On sped the privateer, and the cruiser followed quickly after her.

Then the Lively Bee tacked, and the Belvidera saw, when almost too late, that she had been led nearly within gunshot of Commodore Rodgers' flagship, the President.

Both vessels began preparing for a test of skillful marksmanship, and for that most interesting of all engagements—a naval duel.

On the Belvidera the English sailors were busily engaged in shifting long eighteens and carronades to the stern, making a battery of stern-chasers mounting four guns.

The Lively Bee watched the preparations, and occasionally sent a shot tearing across the Belvidera's deck, throwing the crew into confusion.

CHAPTER V.

THE CHASE.

A fresh breeze was blowing when the American fleet began the chase after the Belvidera.

In a few hours the President had drawn away from the fleet, and was forging ahead.

Then the little Wasp, as lively as the insect after which it was named, came closely after.

The big United States followed next, with the Essex in good position.

Then commenced a contest of speed between the representative vessels of the two greatest nations on earth.

The English ship was trying to get away, the American endeavoring to catch her.

The Belvidera was a swift vessel, but it had to maneuver considerably, for the Wasp was trying to get into the offing to prevent escape, and the Lively Bee was keeping up the excitement by sending a shot at intervals, whenever the Britisher got within safe distance.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when Commodore Rodgers leaped into the rigging to take another view of his adversary.

He was well satisfied.

His heart beat with enthusiasm.

War had been declared, and he was to be the one to fire the first shot at the British power on the seas.

For although the privateer had done effectual work, the navy did not give it credit.

Rodgers went to the bow of the President and sighted the gun himself.

His shot was a good one, hulling the enemy.

Captain Vernon saw it through his glass and he cried out loudly:

"Bravo, Rodgers! Give him another!"

A second shot followed before the Belvidera could reply.

The American was superior in gunning, and every shot told.

A third shot from the President broke off the muzzle of one of the Belvidera's stern-chasers, while another shot crashed into the stern of the chase, killing two men and wounding several others.

The men on the Belvidera were now all excitement.

Captain Byron bit his lips in anger.

He had sighted the guns himself, but had done no damage to the American.

He ordered two long eighteen-pounders on the main deck to the stern, and two thirty-two-pound carronades on the quarter deck.

With these he kept up an incessant fire, many shots being effective.

The rigging of the President was cut in many places, and one midshipman was killed.

While the excitement was at its height a young midshipman on the President, a boy whose years could not have exceeded ten, performed a most daring feat.

A gun was sighted at the Belvidera, but the gunner was stricken down as he was in the act of firing.

The boy saw it and with patriotic fervor, shouted:

"I'll have one shot at the rascals anyway."

But he could find no match with which to fire the gun.

Not to be daunted, he rushed to the galley and picking up a live coal in his fingers, he hurried with it, regardless of the intense pain, and placed it on the priming.

Instantly the report showed that he had fulfilled his threat, and had fired one shot at the enemy.

His thumb and finger were burned to the bones, but he was happy.

And the shot was an effective one.

A lieutenant and two marines were killed by it as it tore its way along the deck.

The chase continued for another hour, the flagship leading all the others, the Lively Bee watching the chase, but taking no part just then.

It was only a question of a few hours when the President would overtake the English ship.

But just when victory was in sight a loud explosion startled everybody, and directed the attention of the whole fleet to the President.

Commodore Rodgers had again sighted his heavy gun, which was getting so hot that he almost deemed it unsafe to load it.

"One more shot," he cried, as he applied the match.

A cloud of smoke hung over the President as the noise of the report cleared away.

In firing that shot the gun had burst with a terrific report, the flying fragments killing or wounding sixteen men.

The commodore was thrown high into the air, and fell heavily on the deck, suffering a severe fracture of his leg.

Panic set in.

Some of the sailors were for hauling down the flag, but they were only raw recruits, and were quickly overpowered by the older men.

The accident caused a cessation of the firing for a time, and the Belvidera took advantage of it to show her heels.

"Follow her! Rake her with shot and shell!" shouted the wounded commodore. "Don't let her