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 gla.s.s, 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.

_Crash!_ roared a broadside from the Dutch frigate as her flag went aloft, and splash, splash, splash, went her sh.e.l.ls 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 t.i.ttered 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 l.u.s.ty 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 cutla.s.ses 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, cutla.s.ses 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 G.o.ds, 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 sh.o.r.e.

"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.

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

The fame of this gallant exploit soon spread abroad and the king showed some desire to see this courageous privateersman.

"I would have him at court," said he to his minister Colbert. "For I would reward him."

When news of this was brought to the privateersman he was naturally delighted, and, travelling to Versailles, was ushered into the presence of his Majesty.

"Here is a gold chain for you," said the king. "I trust that you will keep it in recognition of my appreciation of your gallant conduct. I would be glad, indeed, to have you in the Royal Service. Would you not take a commission?"

"You overwhelm me," answered the valiant sea-fighter, blushing.

"I--I--I--am quite disconcerted. But--if it would please your Majesty, I believe that I would prefer to remain a simple privateer. It is a free life and it suits my roving nature."

The king chuckled.

"So be it," said he. "But my good sir, keep yourself in readiness for a commission. I may need you in the Royal Marine!"

"Very good, Sire!" said Jean Bart, and, bowing low, he withdrew.

But he did not get away without an adventure,--quite as exciting as any he had had aboard the rocking decks of one of his privateer ships.