The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisis Page 7

  CHAPTER V

  MUSIC IN THE MOONLIGHT

  Several days passed and from the standpoint of the schooner the voyagewas successful. The wind continued fresh and strong, and it came out ofthe right quarter. The days were clear, the sea was a dazzling color,shifting as the sky over it shifted. The slaver was in high good humor.His crew seemed to be under perfect control and went about their workmostly in silence. They rarely sang, as sailors sing, but Robert,watching them on spar or mast, although he knew little about ships, knewthat they were good sailors. He realized, too, that the crew was verylarge for a vessel of its size, and he believed that he understood thereason.

  As for himself, he felt a vast loneliness. It was incredible, but he wasthere on the schooner far from all he had known. The forest, in which hehad lived and the war that had concerned the whole world had sunk out ofsight beyond the horizon. And on the schooner he had made noacquaintance save the slaver. He knew that the mate was called Carlos,but he had not yet spoken to him. He tried his best to be cheerful, butthere were times when despair assailed him in spite of all his courageand natural buoyancy.

  "Better reconsider," said the slaver one day, catching the look upon hisface. "As I've told you, Peter, the life on the plantations is hard andthey don't last long, no matter how strong they are. There's peril inthe life I lead, I'll admit, but at least there's freedom also. Sport'sto be found among the islands, and along the Spanish Main."

  "I couldn't think of it," said Robert.

  "Well, it's the second time I've made you the offer, and the last. Iperceive you're bent on a life in the sugar cane, and you'll have yourwish."

  Robert, seeing no chance of escape from the ship now, began to hope forrescue from without. It was a time of war and all vessels were more thancommonly wary, but one might come at last, and, in some way he wouldgive a signal for help. How he did not know, but the character of theschooner was more than doubtful, and he might be able, in some way, yetunsuggested, to say so to any new ship that came.

  But the surface of the sea, so far as their own particular circle of itwas concerned, was untroubled by any keel save their own. It was as loneand desolate as if they were the first vessel to come there. They fellinto a calm and the schooner rocked in low swells but made no progress.The sun shone down, brassy and hot, and Robert, standing upon the deck,looked at the sails flapping idly above. Although it carried him fartherand farther away from all for which he cared, he wished that the windwould rise. Nothing was more tedious than to hang there upon the surfaceof the languid ocean. The slaver read his face.

  "You want us to go on," he said, "and so do I. For once we are inagreement. I'd like to make a port that I know of much sooner than Ishall. The war has brought privateersmen into these seas, and there areother craft that any ship can give a wide berth."

  "If the privateer should be British, or out of one of our American portswhy should you fear her?" asked Robert.

  "I'm answering no such questions except to say that in some parts of theworld you're safer alone, and this is one of the parts."

  The dead calm lasted two days and two nights, and it was like forever toRobert. When the breeze came at last, and the sails began to fill, newlife flowed into his own veins, and hope came back. Better any kind ofaction than none at all, and he drew long breaths of relief when theschooner once more left her trailing wake in the blue sea. The wind blewstraight and strong for a day and night, then shifted and a long periodof tacking followed. It was very wearisome, but Robert, clinging to hisresolution, made the best of it. He even joined in some of the labor,helping to polish the metal work, especially the eighteen-pounder in thestern, a fine bronze gun. The men tolerated him, but when he tried totalk with them he found that most of them had little or no English, andhe made scant progress with them in that particular. The big first mate,Carlos, rebuffed him repeatedly, but he persisted, and in time therebuffs became less brusque. He also noticed a certain softening of thesailors toward him. His own charm of manner was so great that it washard to resist it when it was continuously exerted, and sailors, likeother men, appreciate help when it is given to them continuously. Thenumber of frowns for him decreased visibly.

  He still ate at the captain's table, why he knew not, but the man seemedto fancy his company; perhaps there was no other on the schooner who wason a similar intellectual level, and he made the most of the opportunityto talk.

  "Peter," he said, "you seem to have ingratiated yourself to a certainextent with my crew. I'm bound to admit that you're a personable youngrascal, with the best manners I've met in a long time, but I warn youthat you can't go far. You'll never win 'em over to your side, and beable to lead a mutiny which will dethrone me, and put you in command."

  "I've no such plan in my mind," said Robert laughing. "I don't knowenough about sailing to take command of the ship, and I'd have to leaveeverything to Carlos, whom I'd trust, on the whole, less than I do you."

  "You're justified in that. Carlos is a Spaniard out of Malaga, where hewas too handy with the knife, just as he has been elsewhere. Whatever Iam, you're safer with me than you would be with Carlos, although he's afine sailor and loyal to me."

  "How long will it be before we make any of the islands?"

  "It's all with the wind, but in any event it will be quite a while yet.It's a long run from New York down to the West Indies. Moreover, we maybe blown out of our course at any time."

  "Are we in the stormy latitudes?"

  "We are. Hurricanes appear here with great suddenness. You noticed howhot it was to-day. We're to have another calm, and the still, intenseheat is a great breeder of storms. I think one will come soon, but don'tput any faith in its helping you, Peter. To be saved that way once isall the luck you can expect. If we were wrecked here you'd surely godown; it's too far from land."

  "I'm not expecting another wreck, nor am I hoping for it," said Robert."I'm thinking the land will be better for me. I'll make good my escapethere. I've been uncommonly favored in that way. Once I escaped from youand twice from the French and Indians, so I think my future will holdgood."

  "Maybe it will, Peter. As resolute an optimist as you ought to succeed.If you escape after I deliver you to the plantation 'twill be no concernto me at all. On the whole I'm inclined to hope you will, for I'm ratherbeginning to like you, spite of all the trouble you've caused me andthat time you beat me with the swords before my own men."

  Robert's heart leaped up. Could the man be induced to relent in hisplan, whatever it was? But his hope fell the next moment, when theslaver said:

  "Though I tell you, Peter, I'm going to stick to my task. You'll behanded over to the plantation, whatever comes. After that, it's forothers to watch you, and I rather hope you'll get the better of 'em."

  The storm predicted by the slaver arrived within six hours, and it was afearful thing. It came roaring down upon them, and the wind blew withsuch frightful violence that Robert did not see how they could livethrough it, but live they did. Both the captain and mate revealed greatseamanship, and the schooner was handled so well and behaved sohandsomely that she drove through it without losing a stick.

  When the hurricane passed on the sea resumed its usual blue color, and,the dead, heavy heat gone, the air was keen and fresh. Robert, althoughhe did not suffer from seasickness, had been made dizzy by the storm,and he felt intense relief when it was over.

  "You'll observe, Peter," said the slaver, "that we're coming intoregions of violence both on land and sea. You've heard many a tale ofthe West Indies. Well, they're all true, whatever they are, earthquakes,hurricanes, smugglers, pirates, wild Englishmen, Frenchmen, Americans,Spaniards, Portuguese, deeds by night that the day won't own, and theprize for the strongest. It's a great life, Peter, for those that canlive it."

  The close-set eyes flashed, and the nostrils dilated. Despite theapparent liking that the slaver had shown for him, Robert never doubtedhis character. Here was a man to whom the violent contrasts and violentlife of the West Indian seas appealed. He wondere
d what was the presentmission of the schooner, and he thought of the bronze eighteen-pounder,and of the dirks and pistols in the belts of the crew.

  "I prefer the north," he said. "It's cooler there and people are morenearly even, in temper and life."

  "Your life there has been in peril many times from the Indians."

  "That's true, but I understand the Indians. Those who are my friends aremy friends, and those who are my enemies are my enemies. I take it thatin the West Indies you never know what change is coming."

  "Correct, Peter, but it's all a matter of temperament. You like what youlike, because you're made that way, and you can't alter it, but the WestIndies have seen rare deeds. Did you ever hear of Morgan, the greatbuccaneer?"

  "Who hasn't?"

  "There was a man for you! No law but his own! Willing to sack thebiggest and strongest cities on the Spanish Main and did it, too! Ah,Peter, 'twould have been a fine thing to have lived in his day and tohave done what he did."

  "I shouldn't care to be a pirate, no matter how powerful, and no matterhow great the reward."

  "Again it's just a matter of temperament. I'm not trying to change you,and you couldn't change me."

  Came another calm, longer than the first. They hung about for days andnights on a hot sea, and captain and crew alike showed anxiety andimpatience. The captain was continually watching the horizon with hisglasses, and he talked to Robert less than usual. It was obvious that hefelt anxiety.

  The calm was broken just before nightfall. Dark had come with thesuddenness of the tropic seas. There was a puff of wind, followed by asteady breeze, and the schooner once more sped southward. Robert,anxious to breathe the invigorating air, came upon deck, and standingnear the mainmast watched the sea rushing by. The captain paused nearhim and said to Robert in a satisfied tone:

  "It won't be long now, Peter, until we're among the islands, and it maybe, too, that we'll see another ship before long. We've been on a lonesea all the way down, but you'll find craft among the islands."

  "It might be a hostile vessel, a privateer," said Robert.

  "It's not privateers of which I'm thinking."

  The light was dim, but Robert plainly saw the questing look in his eyes,the look of a hunter, and he drew back a pace. This man was no meresmuggler. He would not content himself with such a trade. But he said inhis best manner:

  "I should think, captain, it was a time to avoid company, and that youwould be better pleased with a lone sea."

  "One never knows what is coming in these waters," said the slaver. "Itmay be that we shall have to run away, and I must not be caught off myguard."

  But the look in the man's eyes did not seem to Robert to be that of onewho wished to run away. It was far more the look of the hunter, and whenthe hulking mate, Carlos, passed near him his face bore a kindredexpression. The sailors, too, were eager, attentive, watching thehorizon, as if they expected something to appear there.

  No attention was paid to Robert, and he remained on the deck, feeling astrong premonition that they were at the edge of a striking event, onethat had a great bearing upon his own fate, no matter what its charactermight be.

  The wind rose again, but it did not become a gale. It was merely what aswift vessel would wish, to show her utmost grace and best speed. Themoon came out and made a silver sea. The long white wake showed clearlyacross the waters. The captain never left the deck, but continued toexamine the horizon with his powerful glasses.

  Robert, quick to deduce, believed that they were in some part of the seafrequented by ships in ordinary times and that the captain must bereckoning on the probability of seeing a vessel in the course of thenight. His whole manner showed it, and the lad's own interest became sogreat that he lost all thought of going down to his cabin. Unless forceintervened he would stay there and see what was going to happen, becausehe felt in every fiber that something would surely occur.

  An hour, two hours passed. The schooner went swiftly on toward thesouth, the wind singing merrily through the ropes and among the sails.The captain walked back and forth in a narrow space, circling the entirehorizon with his glasses at intervals seldom more than five minutesapart. It was about ten o'clock at night when he made a sharp, decisivemovement, and a look of satisfaction came over his face. He had beengazing into the west and the lad felt sure that he had seen there thatfor which he was seeking, but his own eyes, without artificial help,were not yet able to tell him what it was.

  The captain called the mate, speaking to him briefly and rapidly, andthe sullen face of the Spaniard became alive. An order to the steersmanand the course of the schooner was shifted more toward the west. It wasevident to Robert that they were not running away from whatever it wasout there. The slaver for the first time in a long while took notice ofRobert.

  "There's another craft in the west, Peter," he said, "and we must have alook at her. Curiosity is a good thing at sea, whatever it may be onshore. When you know what is near you you may be able to protectyourself from danger."

  His cynical, indifferent air had disappeared. He was gay, anticipatory,as if he were going to something that he liked very much. The close-seteyes were full of light, and the thin lips curved into a smile.

  "You don't seem to expect danger," said Robert. "It appears to me thatyou're thinking of just the opposite."

  "It's because I've so much confidence in the schooner. If it's a wickedship over there we'll just show her the fastest pair of heels in theWest Indies."

  He did not speak again for a full quarter of an hour, but he used theglasses often, always looking at the same spot on the western horizon.Robert was at last able to see a black dot there with his unassistedeyes, and he knew that it must be a ship.

  "She's going almost due south," said the captain, "and in two hours weshould overhaul her."

  "Why do you wish to overhaul her?" asked Robert.

  "She may be a privateer, a Frenchman, or even a pirate, and if so wemust give the alarm to other peaceful craft like ourselves in thesewaters."

  He raised the glasses again and did not take them down for a full fiveminutes. Meantime the strange ship came nearer. It was evident to Robertthat the two vessels were going down the sides of a triangle, and ifeach continued on its course they would meet at the point.

  The night was steadily growing brighter. The moon was at its fullest,and troops of new stars were coming out. Robert saw almost as well as byday. He was soon able to distinguish the masts and sails of thestranger, and to turn what had been a black blur into the shape andparts of a ship. He was able, too, to tell that the stranger was keepingsteadily on her course, but the schooner, obeying her tiller, wasdrawing toward her more and more.

  "They don't appear to be interested in us," he said to the captain.

  "No," replied the man, "but they should be. They show a lack of thatcuriosity which I told you is necessary at sea, and it is my duty toovertake them and tell them so. We must not have any incautious shipssailing in these strange waters."

  Ten minutes later he called the mate and gave a command. Cutlasses andmuskets with powder and ball were put at convenient points. Every mancarried at least one pistol and a dirk in his belt. The captain himselftook two pistols and a cutlass.

  "Merely a wise precaution, Peter," he said, "in case our peacefulneighbor, to whom we wish to give a useful warning, should turn out tobe a pirate."

  Robert in the moonlight saw his eyes gleam and his lips curve once moreinto a smile. He had seen enough of men in crucial moments to know thatthe slaver was happy, that he was rejoicing in some great triumph thathe expected to achieve. In spite of himself he shivered and looked atthe stranger. The tracery of masts and spars was growing clearer and thedim figures of men were visible on her decks.

  "Oh, we'll meet later," said the captain exultantly. "Don't deceiveyourself about that. There is a swift wind behind us and the speed ofboth ships is increasing."

  Robert looked over the side. The sea was running in white caps and abovehis head the wind was whistling.
The schooner rolled and his footinggrew unsteady, but it was only a fine breeze to the sailors, just whatthey loved. Suddenly the captain burst into a great laugh.

  "The fools! the fools!" he exclaimed. "As I live, they're pleasuringhere in the most dangerous seas in the world! Music in the moonlight!"

  "What do you mean?" asked Robert, astonished.

  "Just what I say! A madness hath o'ercome 'em! Take a look through theglasses, Peter, and see a noble sight, but a strange one at such atime."

  He clapped the glasses to Robert's eyes. The other ship, suddenly camenear to them, and grew fourfold in size. Every detail of her stood outsharp and vivid in the moonlight, a stout craft with all sails set tocatch the good wind, a fine merchantman by every token, nearing the endof a profitable voyage. Discipline was not to say somewhat relaxed, butat least kindly, the visible evidence of it an old sailor sitting withhis back against the mast playing vigorously upon a violin, while adozen other men stood around listening.

  "Look at 'em, Peter. Look at 'em," laughed the captain. "It's a mostnoble sight! Watch the old fellow playing the fiddle, and I'll lay myeyes that in a half minute or so you'll have some of the sailormendancing."

  Robert shuddered again. The glee in the slaver's voice was wicked. Thecynical jesting tone was gone and in its place was only unholy malice.But Robert was held by the scene upon the deck of the stranger.

  "Yes, two of the sailors have begun to dance," he said. "They're youngmen and clasping each other about the shoulders, they're doing ahornpipe. I can see the others clapping their hands and the old fellowplays harder than ever."

  "Ah, idyllic! Most idyllic, I vow!" exclaimed the captain. "Who wouldhave thought, Peter, to have beheld such a sight in these seas! 'Tis achildhood dream come back again! 'Tis like the lads and maids sportingon the village green! Ah, the lambs! the innocents! There is no war forthem. It does my soul good, Peter, to behold once more such innocenttrust in human nature."

  The shudder, more violent than ever, swept over Robert again. He feltthat he was in the presence of something unclean, something that exhaledthe foul odor of the pit. The man had become wholly evil, and he shrankaway.

  "Steady, Peter," said the slaver. "Why shouldn't you rejoice with thehappy lads on yon ship? Think of your pleasant fortune to witness such aplay in the West Indian seas, the merry sailormen dancing to the musicin the moonlight, the ship sailing on without care, and we in ourschooner bearing down on 'em to secure our rightful share in thefestival. Ah, Peter, we must go on board, you and I and Carlos and morestout fellows and sing and dance with 'em!"

  Robert drew back again. It may have been partly the effect of themoonlight, and partly the mirror of his own mind through which helooked, but the captain's face had become wholly that of a demon. Theclose-set eyes seemed to draw closer together than ever, and they wereflashing. His hand, sinewy and strong, settled upon the butt of a pistolin his belt, but, in a moment, he raised it again and took the glassesfrom Robert. After a long look he exclaimed:

  "They dream on! They fiddle and dance with their whole souls, Peter, mylad, and such trusting natures shall be rewarded!"

  Robert could see very well now without the aid of the glasses. Thesailor who sat on a coil of rope with his back against a mast, playingthe violin, was an old man, his head bare, his long white hair flying.It was yet too far away for his face to be disclosed, but Robert knewthat his expression must be rapt, because his attitude showed that hissoul was in his music. The two young sailors, with their arms about theshoulders of each other, were still dancing, and two more had joinedthem.

  The crowd of spectators had thickened. Evidently it was a ship with anumerous crew, perhaps a rich merchantman out of Bristol or Boston. Noflag was flying over her. That, however, was not unusual in those seas,and in times of war when a man waited to see the colors of his neighborbefore showing his own. But Robert was surprised at the laxity ofdiscipline on the stranger. They should be up and watching, inquiringinto the nature of the schooner that was drawing so near.

  "And now, Peter," said the captain, more exultant than ever, "you shallsee an unveiling! It is not often given to a lad like you, a landsman,to behold such a dramatic act at sea, a scene so powerful and completethat it might have been devised by one of the great Elizabethans! Ho,Carlos, make ready!"

  He gave swift commands and the mate repeated them as swiftly to the men.The two ships were rapidly drawing nearer, but to Robert's amazement thefestival upon the deck of the stranger did not cease. Above the creakingof the spars the wailing strains of the violin came to him across thewaters. If they were conscious there of the presence of the schoonerthey cared little about it. For the moment it occurred to Robert that itmust be the _Flying Dutchman_, or some other old phantom ship out of thedim and legendary past.

  "And now, Carlos!" exclaimed the captain in a full, triumphant voice,"we'll wake 'em up! Break out the flag and show 'em what we are!"

  A coiled piece of cloth, dark and menacing, ran up the mainmast of theschooner, reached the top, and then burst out, streaming at full lengthin the strong wind, dark as death and heavy with threat. Robert lookedup and shuddered violently. Over the schooner floated the black flag,exultant and merciless.

  The tarpaulin was lifted and the long bronze gun in the stern wasuncovered. Beside her stood the gunners, ready for action. Theboatswain's whistle blew and the dark crew stood forth, armed to theteeth, eager for action, and spoil. Carlos, a heavy cutlass in hand,awaited his master's orders. The captain laughed aloud.

  "So you see, Peter, what we are!" he exclaimed. "And it's not too latefor you to seize a cutlass and have your share. Now, my lads, we'llboard her and take her in the good old way."

  The mate shouted to the steersman, and the schooner yawed. Robert,filled with horror, scarcely knew what he was doing; in truth, he had noconscious will to do anything, and so he ended by doing nothing. But heheard the fierce low words of the pirates, and he saw them leaningforward, as if making ready to leap on the deck of the stranger and cutdown every one of her crew.

  Then he looked at the other ship. The old man who had been playing theviolin suddenly dropped it and snatched up a musket from behind the coilof rope on which he had been sitting. The dancers ceased to dance,sprang away, and returned in an instant with muskets also. Heavy pistolsleaped from the shirts and blouses of the spectators, and up from theinside of the ship poured a swarm of men armed to the teeth. A piece ofcloth swiftly climbed the mainmast of the stranger also, reached thetop, broke out there triumphantly, and the flag of England, over againstthe black flag, blew out steady and true in the strong breeze.

  "God! A sloop of war!" exclaimed the captain. "About, Carlos! Put herabout!"

  But the sloop yawed quickly, her portholes opened, bronze muzzlesappeared, tampions fell away, and a tremendous voice shouted:

  "Fire!"

  Robert saw a sheet of flame spring from the side of the sloop, there wasa terrific crash, a dizzying column of smoke and the schooner seemedfairly to leap from the water, as the broadside swept her decks and toreher timbers. The surly mate was cut squarely in two by a round shot, menscreaming in rage and pain went down and the captain staggered, butrecovered himself. Then he shouted to the steersman to put the schoonerabout and rushing among the sailors he ordered them to another task thanthat of boarding.

  "It was a trick, and it trapped us most damnably!" he cried. "A fool Iwas! Fools we must all have been to have been caught by it! They luredus on! But now, you rascals, to your work, and it's for your lives! Weescape together or we hang together!"

  The night had darkened much, clouds trailing before the moon and stars,but Robert clearly saw the slaver's face. It was transformed by chagrinand wrath, though it expressed fierce energy, too. Blood was runningfrom his shoulder down his left arm, but drawing his sword he fairlyherded the men to the sails; that is, to those that were left. Thehelmsman put the shattered schooner about and she drove rapidly on a newcourse. But the sloop of war, tacking, let go her other broadside.r />
  Robert anticipated the second discharge, and by impulse rather thanreason threw himself flat upon the deck, where he heard the heavy shotwhistling over his head and the cries of those who were struck down.Spars and rigging, too, came clattering to the deck, but the masts stoodand the schooner, though hit hard, still made way.

  "Steady! Keep her steady, my boys!" shouted the captain. "We've still aclean pair of heels, and with a little luck we'll lose the sloop in thedarkness!"

  He was a superb seaman and the rising wind helped him. The woundedschooner had gained so much that the third broadside did but littledamage and killed only one man. Robert stood up again and looked back atthe pursuing vessel, her decks covered with men in uniform, the gunnersloading rapidly while over the sloop the flag of England that was thenthe flag of his own country too, streamed straight out in the wind,proud and defiant.

  He felt a throb of intense, overwhelming pride. The black flag had beenovermatched by the good flag. In the last resort, those who lived righthad proved themselves more than equal to those who lived wrong. Law andorder were superior to piracy and chaos. Forgetful of his own safety, hehoped that the sloop would overtake the schooner, and obeying hisimpulse he uttered a shout of triumph. The captain turned upon himfiercely.

  "You cheer the wrong ship," he said. "If they overtake us, you beingwith us, I'll swear that you were one of the hardiest men in my crew!"

  Robert laughed, he could not help it, though the act was more or lesshysterical, and replied:

  "I'll chance it! But, Captain, didn't you have the surprise of yourwhole life, and you so cunning, too!"

  The man raised his cutlass, but dropped it quickly.

  "Don't try me that way again," he said. "It was my impulse to cut youdown, and the next time I'd do it. But you're right. It was a surprise,though we'll escape 'em yet, and we'll let 'em know we're not just ahunted rabbit, either!"

  The Long Tom in the stern of the schooner opened fire. The first shotsplashed to the right of the sloop, and the second to the left, but thethird struck on board, and two men were seen to go down. The captainlaughed.

  "That's a taste of their own medicine," he said.

  A big gun on the sloop thundered, and a round shot cut away one of theschooner's spars. Another flashed and a load of grape hissed over thedecks. Two men were killed and three more wounded. The captain shoutedin anger and made the others crack on all the sail they could. She was astaunch schooner, and though hurt grievously she still made speed.Swifter than the sloop, despite her injuries, she gradually widened thegap between them, while the wind rose fast, and the trailing blacknessspread over the sea.

  Although still close at hand, the outline of the pursuing sloop becamedim. Robert was no longer able to trace the human figures on her deck,but the banner of law and right flying from her topmast yet showed inthe dusk. Forgetful as before of his own danger, he began to have a fearthat the pirate would escape. Under his breath he entreated the avengingsloop to come on, to sail faster and faster, he begged her gunners toaim aright despite the darkness, to rake the decks of the schooner withgrape and to send the heavy round shot into her vitals.

  The sloop kept up a continuous fire with her bow guns. The heavy reportscrashed through the darkness, the sounds rolling sullenly away, and notevery shot went wild. There was a tearing of sails, a splintering ofspars, a shattering of wood, and now and then the fall of a man. Underthe insistent and continuous urgence of the captain the men on theschooner replied with the Long Tom in her stern, and, when one of theshots swept the deck of the sloop, the fierce, dark sailors shouted injoy. Robert saw with a sinking of the heart that the gap between the twovessels was still widening, while almost the last star was gone from theheavens, and it was now so dark that everything was hidden a few hundredyards away.

  "We'll lose her! We'll lose her yet!" cried the captain. "Winds and thenight fight for us. See you, Peter, we must be the chosen children offortune, for this can hardly be chance!"

  Robert said nothing, because it seemed for the time at least that thecaptain's words were true. A sudden and tremendous gust of wind caughtthe schooner and drove her on, ragged and smashed though she was, atincreased speed, while the same narrow belt of wind seemed to miss thesloop. The result was apparent at once. The gap between them became agulf. The flag flying so proudly on the topmast of the sloop was gone inthe dusk. Her spars and sails faded away, she showed only a dim, lowhulk on the water from which her guns flashed.

  The schooner tacked again. A new bank of blackness poured down over thesea, and the sloop was gone.

  "It was a trap and we sailed straight into it," exclaimed the captain,"but it couldn't hold us. We've escaped!"

  He spoke the truth. They drove steadily on a long time, and saw no moreof the sloop of war.