took my usual salt-water bath.

"Now," I meditated, as I took up a position beneath the spout of the
head-pump, and signed to the man in charge to get to work, "the rule in
chasing when one is abreast, but to the leeward of the chase, is to
tack. I don't like to tack without instructions from my superior
officer, because I don't know what his plans may be, and he may have
some scheme of his own for the circumventing of our friend yonder; but
if I do not hear anything from him by the time that I am ready to go
below and dress I will just take the small liberty of asking for
instructions. For of course the brigantine is quite aware by this time
that the brig and we are running in couples, therefore there need be no
further squeamishness on my part as to an interchange of signals between
the brig and myself."

My douche at an end, I walked aft again, and, pausing at the head of the
companion ladder, said to Simpson:

"Mr Simpson, be good enough to get out the flags and--"

The carpenter was balancing himself upon the dancing deck as I spoke,
with the telescope at his eye, looking at the brig, and I had got so far
in my speech when he interrupted me with the exclamation:

"Signal from the commodore, sir!"

"What is it?" I asked.

He read out the flags to me, and I said:

"All right! acknowledge it." And I dived below into my cabin, where I
at once turned up the signal in the code book. It consisted of the one
word "Tack!"

Hastily closing the book again, I dashed up the companion ladder and
shouted to Simpson:

"Mr Simpson, 'bout ship at once, if you please. And when you are round
upon the other tack, and have coiled down, let the men clear away the
long gun on the forecastle and get up a few rounds of ammunition. We
may perhaps get a chance to have a slap at that fellow a little later."

"Ay, ay, sir! Hands 'bout ship!" roared Simpson. And as I descended
again to my state-room to dress, I heard him give the order to "down
helm". The next moment the little hooker rose to an even keel, with a
terrific slatting of canvas and whipping of relaxed sheets as she came
head to wind; then, after a vicious plunge or two, head-on, into the
long seas, she paid off on the opposite tack and heeled over to port.
The shivering and slatting of the canvas, with the accompanying tremor
of the hull, ceased, and the long, easy, floating plunges and soarings
were resumed as she again settled easily into her stride.

"Lon