east of Calvi, and were
able to bear away with a beam wind for Acciajola Point, round which, and
at the bottom of the bay, lay San Fiorenzo, our destination. Our
altered course gave our opponent a further advantage by bringing her a
couple of points before our beam, and we had the mortification of seeing
that the craft was edging out to intercept us, and would, to a moral
certainty, cut us off before we could reach the headland.

Still, I resolved to stand on, and trust to the chapter of accidents for
our ultimate escape. If the change in our course had given the
"Vigilant" one important advantage, it had given us another, to which I
attached quite as much weight; it had brought the wind and sea abeam,
and permitted us to ease up our sheets, while the sea no longer retarded
us: it also permitted us to set a little extra canvas, and we
accordingly lost no time in getting our topmast on end and setting the
gaff-topsail, after which we could do nothing but sit still and
anxiously watch the result.

Meanwhile the two vessels were rapidly converging upon a point distant
about a mile from Cape Acciajola. The wind continued to drop, the sea
going down at the same time; and as the morning advanced and the weather
became lighter, we appeared to be once more getting rather the advantage
of our pertinacious antagonist. So completely was our attention engaged
by the "Vigilant," that it was not until that craft had hoisted her
colours that we became aware of the fact that a new actor had appeared
upon the scene, and was within seven miles of us. This was a brig,
which when we first caught sight of her was running in for the land from
the W.S.W., with every stitch of canvas set that would draw, including
lower, topmast, and topgallant studding-sails on her port side. She lay
about three points on our weather quarter, and was steering for the Gulf
of San Fiorenzo.

The appearance of this stranger naturally added very greatly to my
anxiety. I could not in the least make up my mind as to her
nationality, for she hoisted no colours in response to the "Vigilant's"
display of her ensign, and though she struck me as being thoroughly
French, both in build and rig, I could not understand why she should be
running for San Fiorenzo, if our fleet was there; while if it was not,
it seemed pretty certain that I had run into what old Rawlings, the
sailing-master, was wont to designate "the centre of a hobble," in other
words--a decided pr