hen full ten miles astern.

My resolution to save the cargo and lose the vessel was promptly
made;--orders were issued to strike from the slaves the irons they had
constantly worn since the mutiny; the boats were made ready; and every
man prepared his bag for a rapid launch.

On dashed the cruiser, foaming at the bows, under the impetus of the
rising gale, which struck him some time before it reached us. We were
not more than seven miles apart when the first increased pressure on
our sails was felt, and every thing was set and braced to give it the
earliest welcome. Then came the tug and race for the beach, three
miles ahead. But, under such circumstances, it was hardly to be
expected that St. George could carry the day. Still, every nerve was
strained to effect the purpose. Regardless of the gale, reef after
reef was let out while force pumps moistened his sails; yet nothing
was gained. Three miles against seven were too much odds;--and, with a
slight move of the helm, and "letting all fly," as we neared the line
of surf, to break her headway, La Estrella was fairly and safely
_beached_.

The sudden shock snapped her mainmast like a pipe-stem, but, as no one
was injured, in a twinkling the boats were overboard, crammed with
women and children, while a stage was rigged from the bows to the
strand, so that the males, the crew and the luggage were soon in
charge of my old _haciendado_.

Prompt as we were, we were not sufficiently so for the cruiser. Half
our cargo was ashore when she backed her topsails off the mouth of the
little bay, lowered her boats, filled them with boarders, and steered
towards our craft. The delay of half a mile's row gave us time to
cling still longer to the wreck, so that, when the boats and corvette
began to fire, we wished them joy of their bargain over the remnant of
our least valuable negroes. The rescued blacks are now, in all
likelihood, citizens of Jamaica; but, under the influence of the gale,
La Estrella made a very picturesque bonfire, as we saw it that night
from the _azotea_ of our landlord's domicile.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Disastrous as was this enterprise, both on the sea and in the
counting-house, a couple of months found me on board a splendid
clipper,--born of the famous waters of the Chesapeake,--delighting in
the name of "AGUILA DE ORO," or "Golden Eagle," and spinning out of
the Cape de Verds on a race with a famous West Indian privateer.

The "Montesquieu" was the