in chase of us. Our other pursuer could not
have seen the ships visible from our masthead, and would therefore not
understand the reason for our change of course. Had it been earlier in
the day, our capture by either one or the other would have been certain;
but Dubois might now manage, by good seamanship, to slip between the
two. The wind increased, and our starboard studding-sails were taken
in; we carried those on our larboard side to the last. Having satisfied
myself, I returned on deck.

"Do you know what those ships are away to the southward?" asked Dubois.

"Yes, monsieur, I believe them to be English," I answered. "And you
expect them to catch us, do you?" he said.

"That depends on circumstances," I replied; "but I know your
determination, and believe that you will make every effort to escape."

"You may be sure of that," he said, laughing. "See how I'm carrying on.
Many would have shortened sail before this."

I made no reply, but looked aloft. The brig was literally tearing
through the water; the breeze was increasing; the sails were bulging
out, every rope stretched out to its utmost tension; the studding-sails
pulled and tugged as if eager to fly away. Presently there came a loud
crack, and both studding-sail booms broke off close to the irons. The
men attempted to get in the fluttering canvas.

"Cut! cut!" cried Dubois. "Let them go!"

The wind shifted a point or two, and we had to haul still more up. As I
had been unable lately to look at the chart, I could not make out
exactly for what place we were steering, but I could distinguish several
blue hillocks rising out of the ocean, which I knew must be small
islands, either the Virgin Islands or others in their neighbourhood. We
were now steering due north. I again went aloft. The main body of the
fleet was no longer in sight, but three or four white sails could be
seen shining brightly in the rays of the setting sun far away astern,
while our pursuer could still be distinguished over our larboard
quarter, yet apparently no nearer than before. On returning on deck
Dubois looked at me with a smile of satisfaction.

"We are not caught yet," he said. "But bear it patiently, my young
friend. We all have our trials."

I made no reply, but walked to the other side of the deck. It was again
night; the steward came and invited me down to supper, in which I joined
Dubois, while La Touche remained on deck. He did not think fit to tell
me