of all.
Seymour's face was as white as Thompson's was.

"The Radnor! The Radnor! Why, that's the ship Miss Wilton is on. Oh,
Bentley, what can be done now?" he said, the whole situation rising
before him. "If we lead that ship through the pass it means wreck for
her. Dacres, who commands the Radnor, is a new man on this station.
And if we don't try the pass, this ship is captured. And our country,
our cause, receives a fatal blow! Was ever a man in such a situation
before?"

Bentley looked at him with eyes full of pity. "We are approaching the
shoal now, sir, and unless we would be on it, we will have to bring the
ship by the wind at once."

This, at least, was a respite. Seymour glanced ahead, and at once gave
the necessary orders. When the course was altered it became necessary
to take in the fore and main topgallantsails, on account of the wind,
now blowing a half gale and steadily rising. The speed of the ship,
therefore, was unfortunately sensibly diminished, and she was soon
pitching and heaving on the starboard tack, much to the astonishment of
Talbot and the crew, who were ignorant of the existence of the shoal,
and the latter of whom could see no necessity for the dangerous
alteration in the course; they, however, of course said nothing, and
Talbot, whose ignorance of seamanship did not qualify him to decide
difficult questions, after a glance at Seymour's stern, pale face,
decided to ask nothing about it. This present course being at right
angles to that of their pursuer, whom neither Seymour nor Bentley
doubted to be the Radnor, would speedily bring the two ships together.
They had gained a small but precious advantage, however, as the
frigate, apparently as much surprised by the unexpected manoeuvre as
their own men, had allowed some moments to elapse before her helm was
shifted and the wind brought on the other quarter; the courses of the
two ships now intersected at an angle of perhaps seventy degrees, which
would bring them together in a short time.

The people on the Mellish could plainly hear the drums of the frigate,
now almost in range, beating to quarters. They were near enough to
count the gunports; it was indeed a heavy frigate,--a thirty-six, just
the rating of the Radnor. Talbot had made ready his field-piece, and
in a moment the heavy boom of the gun echoed over the waters. The shot
fell a little short, but was in good line. Much encouraged, the men
hastened to load the piec