that of the approaching ship.

"Now, then, men, lay aloft, and shake the reefs out of the topsails.
Stand by to loose the fore and main topgallantsails as well."

"Why, what's wrong, Seymour?" said Talbot, in surprise. "I rather
expected we should be in Massachusetts Bay this evening, and here we
are, heading south again. Isn't that Cape Cod,--that blue haze yonder?
Why are we leaving it? What's the matter?"

"Take the glass, man; there, aft on the starboard quarter, a sail! You
should be able to see her from the deck now. Can you make her out?"

"Yes, by heaven, it's a ship, and a large ship too! What is it, think
you, Seymour?"

"An English ship, of course, a frigate; we have no ships like that in
these waters, or in our navy, either--more's the pity."

"Whew! This looks bad for us."

"Well, we 're not caught yet by a long sight, Talbot. A good many
leagues will have to be sailed before we are overhauled, and there 's
many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, you know; that old stale maxim
is truer on the sea than any place else, and truer in a chase, too; a
thousand things may help us or hinder her. See, we are going better
now that the reefs are out and the topgallantsails set. But it's a
fearful strain on our spars. They look new--pray God they be good
ones," he continued, gazing over the side at the masses of green water
tossed aside from the bows and sweeping aft under the counter in great
swirls.

The spars and rigging of the Mellish were indeed fearfully tested, the
masts buckling and bending like a strained bow. The wind was
freshening every moment, and there was the promise of a gale in the
lowering sky of the gray afternoon. The ship felt the increased
pressure from the additional sail which had been made, and her speed
had materially increased, though she rolled and pitched frightfully,
wallowing through the water and smashing into the waves with her broad,
fat bows, and making rather heavy weather of it. In spite of all this,
however, the chase gained slowly upon them, until she was now visible
to the naked eye from the decks of the Mellish. Seymour, full of
anxiety, tried every expedient that his thorough seamanship and long
experience could dictate to accelerate the speed of his ship,--rather a
sluggish vessel at best, and now, heavily laden, slower than ever. The
stream anchors were cut away, and then one of the bowers also; all the
boats, save one, the smallest, were scuttled an