which you may see."

"Ay, ay, sir!" was the answer, and to work the lad again went with his
telescope most industriously.

We could now hear the firing quite distinctly on deck, but of course
were unable to see anything, though we expected to catch the gleam of
canvas on the horizon very shortly.

Presently young Boyne hailed again:

"The big fellow is overhauling the little one very fast, sir!"

"No doubt. How does the frigate bear now, Mr Boyne?"

"About three points on our weather bow, sir."

"Thank you! Keep her away a point,"--to the helmsman. "Mr Pottle,
take a small pull upon the weather-braces, if you please, and give her
another foot or two of the main sheet."

"Ay, ay, sir," answered Pottle. "Lay aft here, you sea-dogs, and check
the weather-braces. Royal-yard there! hold on tight, we are going to
take a pull upon the weather-braces. Are you all ready there? Now
then, lads, steady, not too much; you've rather overdone it. Ease off
an inch or two of that royal-brace; haul taut to leeward, well there,
belay! Lee to'gallant-brace haul taut; topsail and fore-braces, well
there, belay of all. Forecastle there! ease up that flying-jib sheet.
What do you mean, you know-nothings, by flattening the sail like that?
So, that's better, belay!" And so the old fellow went on, making the
round of the decks and trimming every sail until it drew to the utmost
advantage.

At length, as the schooner rose upon the crest of a sea, the gleam of
the sun upon white canvas was caught for a moment and instantly reported
by a dozen eager voices from the forecastle. It then bore two and a
half points good upon the weather bow. I again hailed the royal-yard:

"Royal-yard there! can you make out how the strangers are steering, Mr
Boyne? We are heading north-east and by north."

"Ay, ay, sir; if that is the case the vessels ahead are steering about
west-south-west."

"That will do, Mr Boyne; you may come down, sir! Clear for action, Mr
Pottle, if you please, and then let the crew go to quarters."

"Ay, ay, sir. Clear for action, Mr Fidd!"

"_Twee, twee, twee-e-e, tweetle, weetle, tee, tee, tee-e_!" piped the
boatswain, following up his shrill music with the hoarse bellow of:

"All hands clear for action. Now then, old stew-pan,"--to the
cook--"dowse your galley-fire, my hearty, and stow away all your best
chiney down in the run. Tumble up there, you bull-dogs, tumble up!"

It was no very long job to prep