We were at this time at war with France, and the Indian Seas were well watched by cruisers from off the Isle of France. Our fleet consisted of thirteen Indiamen of the first-rate convoyed by the _Tremendous_, seventy-four, and _Hindostan_, seventy-four. We sailed in two lines, headed by the two seventy-fours. All seemed order and discipline, and we thought ourselves a match for any ships of France we might have fallen in with. Everything went on smoothly, practising and drilling our guns once a week, and keeping a constant look-out for the enemy. Off the coast of Madagascar a ship was discovered, early in the morning, standing right down upon us. Seeing her a single vessel, we conceived her to be one of our cruisers from off the Cape of Good Hope; but, when she was within one mile and a half from us, she could not answer our signals, and consequently ran towards the land, which was to windward of us. The _Tremendous_, being a fast sailer, went in chase of her. The Frenchman soon found that he was mistaken. He, no doubt, at first took us for a French fleet that was then out in these seas, and relied upon his fast and superior sailing to enable him to get away, should he prove mistaken; but our commodore overhauled him hand over hand. The Frenchman tacked, turned, and twisted, but he found it was of no use. He therefore resorted to his natural cunning, shortened sail, and at last backed maintopsail, and waited till the English vessel came within pistol-shot. The commodore, conceiving that the Frenchman was about to strike, did not wish to injure her, and therefore would not fire. The French captain availed himself of this interval, and gave the _Tremendous_ a whole broadside, by which she was so disabled as to become an immoveable log on the water. The Frenchman up-helm, and off he started. The commodore, at last, got his ship's broadside to bear, and nearly tore her out of the water. However, she was a faster sailer than any ship in our fleet, and, finally, made her escape, to the mortification of the whole fleet, except one Captain Brusée, a French prisoner of war, a passenger on board our ship, who danced with ineffable delight;--natural enough, but not very pleasant to the sight of an Englishman.