the glass to the boatswain, Master Tailtackle, and come forward
here."

The long gun was now swung round, and the other pieces run into the
opened ports. They were all double shotted and carefully primed, and
the whole crew, even to a negro we had on board, stood at their posts
ready for action.

"I see her now, sir, plain enough," cried Tailtackle.

"Good! What does she look like?"

"A large brig, sir, hard up against the wind. You can see her now
without the glass."

I looked in the direction indicated by Tailtackle, and sure enough,
there was a dark mass towering above the surface of the water, dim and
black like a spirit from the deep.

"She's a large vessel, sir," said Tailtackle, "there's no doubt of
that; there goes her lower sails, and now they're furling her topsail;
ha! she's crossing our bows; look out, sir, here comes a shot."

"The devil!" ejaculated I. I now saw the vessel plain enough, scudding
before the wind.

"Keep her close to the wind--ease her a little--that's right--now give
that fellow a shot across his bows--we'll find out what he's made of.
Reefpoint," continued I, to one of the midshipmen, "show our signal."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The shot was fired and the lights shown, but still our ghostly friend
remained silent and dark.

"Scarfemwell," said I to the gunner, "go forward to the long gun;
Tailtackle, I've no great liking for that chap, open the magazine."

The stranger had now neared us considerably, and he shortened sail;
but when he found that his endeavors to cross our bows in order to
rake us, were unsuccessful, as we ran with him before the wind,
broadside to broadside, he hastily let go his topsail, as he was now
not more than a cable's length from us. At this moment, Tailtackle, in
his shirt, pantaloons, and shoes, put his head out of the hatchway,
and said:

"If I might advise, sir, I think we had better keep our hatches down;
that fellow is not honorable, depend upon it, sir."

"Very well, Tailtackle, very well. Forward there, Master Jigmaree;
give him a shot, if he won't speak, right between the masts, sir. Do
you hear?"

"Aye, aye, sir," answered the boatswain.

"Fire."

The gun was discharged, and immediately we heard the crashing of
timbers on board the stranger, accompanied by a piercing cry, such as
a negro makes at the death of his companions, and then came a long and
doleful howl.

"A slaver, sir, and our shot has struck him," cried Handlead, the
gunner