iarities of an old acquaintance. It is the
_Lucy Ann_, an American vessel of a very suspicious character, which
has been frequently boarded by our cruisers, but has ever been
protected by the flag of her apparent country.

We are soon alongside, and our captain boards her, to examine her
'papers' once again, and to insnare, if possible, our wily enemy. On
his return, we continue our course towards the Congo, whither they
have been persuaded we are going for water. No sooner, however, do the
shades of evening protect our movements from observation, than we
change our course, and proceed directly out to sea a hundred miles or
so, to prevent her passing us in the dark should she take her slaves
on board this night, as it is suspected she will do.

Daylight comes next morning, and the best telescopes from aloft sweep
the horizon, but not a speck can be seen on that desert sea. The sails
are stripped from the vessel's masts, and she lies like a dead log,
round which, at the unwonted spectacle, shoals of dolphins and
porpoises come to gambol. It was pleasant to have something like life
near us, and though it belonged to another element, it seemed a
connecting-link with the rest of the animated creation. One long hour
after another had passed away, and the most hopeful began to despair,
while the expressions of the desponding grew more energetic against
the propriety of lying thus inactive; but Captain Cumming, as patient
in biding his time as he is quick in resolving and acting when the
moment arrives, only replied: 'Wait till to-morrow morning!' This
arrived like the last, and every eye was turned towards the rising sun
as it slowly emerged from the waves, not to gaze on the purple
radiance that streamed from its broad disk, but with the expectation
of seeing the object of our solicitude revealed by the light of the
eastern sky. Each one turned slowly away, disappointed, as soon as he
found that he had been looking in vain; but there appeared a sullen
pleasure in the eyes of those who had been prophesying evil, as their
predictions appeared to be fulfilled.

As a matter of precaution for whatever might happen, the steam was
ready; orders were now given to proceed, and we steamed on slowly
towards the land. One hour passed away thus, another, and nearly a
third, when a negro, perched beside the main truck, sang out with all
his lungs: 'Sail ho!' His keen sense of vision, outstripping that of
his white comrade, distinguishe