oking craft on our way round to Plymouth, we felt pretty
certain that news of the assembling of the convoy, and of its probable
sailing date, would find its way across the Channel, and that, sooner or
later, we should discover that a few enterprising privateers were
hovering upon its skirts, watching for a favourable opportunity to cut
in and secure a prize or two.

The south-easterly wind held long enough to enable us and our charges to
get well clear of the Channel and to the southward of Ushant before it
changed, and then it gradually veered round until it came out strong
from the north-west, when away we all went for Madeira, the slowest
ships carrying every rag of canvas that they could stagger under, while
the faster craft were unwillingly compelled to shorten down in order
that all might keep together, while as for ourselves and the _Astarte_,
the utmost that we could show, without running ahead of our station, was
double-reefed topsails.

We sighted and passed Madeira on the eighth day out from Plymouth, and
two days later, to our great joy, picked up the "Trades," blowing fresh;
and thus far we had not sighted a single suspicious sail. Most of us
were of opinion that, having been permitted to come thus far without
interference, we were now safe, and that with a strong trade-wind
wafting along even the slowest coaches among us, at a pace of from six
to seven knots an hour, our troubles were all over. But the more
knowing ones shook their heads, smiled compassionately at our ignorance,
and said, "Wait a bit!"

And they were right. For at daylight on a certain lovely morning, when
we were, by our reckoning, some three hundred and twenty miles from the
island of Barbadoes, upon going up to the main-topmast crosstrees to
take a look round generally, and count the number of sail in sight, I
discovered that at last the wolves had entered our fold and were already
playing havoc with it. For, to start with, one of our finest and
fastest merchantmen had hauled out from the main body, and under a heavy
press of canvas was already hull-down in the south-eastern board, being
evidently in possession of a prize-crew, while, in the thickest of the
ruck, was a very large brigantine, under exceedingly short canvas, yet
keeping pace with the slow-sailing merchantmen, first sheering alongside
one and hugging her affectionately for a few minutes, and then turning
her attention to another and doing likewise. But this was not