At that hour, the wind was steady and favourable; the horizon clear of vessels of every sort, and the prospects of a pleasant night were sufficiently good.  The run in the course of the day was equal to one hundred miles, and I computed the distance to Brest, at something less than four hundred miles.  By getting in nearer with the land, I should have the option of standing for any French port I pleased, that lay between Cherbouig and Bayonne.

“Well, Moses,” I observed to my old friend and shipmate, when we had finished our survey, “this looks promising!  As long as the wind remains in this quarter, we shall do well enough; should we actually get in safely, I shall not regret the delay, the credit of having done so good a thing, and of having done it so well, being worth as much to me, as any interest on capital, or wear and tear of gear, can possibly be.  As for Mr. Sennit, I fancy he is some sixty or eighty miles off here at the southward and westward, and we’ve done with him for the voyage.”

“Suppose he should fall in with the Speedy, and report what has happened, Miles?” returned the mate.  “I have been calculating that chance.  The stranger was standing directly for the frigate’s cruising ground, and he may meet her.  We will not halloo, ’till we’re out of the woods.”

“That risk is so remote, I shall not let it give me any trouble.  It is my intention to run in for the land at our fastest rate of sailing, and, then profit by the best wind that offers, to get into the nearest haven.  If you can suggest a better scheme, Moses, I invite you to speak.”

Marble assented, though I perceived he was not entirely free from the apprehension he had named until the next morning arrived, bringing with it no change, and still leaving us a clear sea.  That day and the succeeding night, too, we made a capital run, and at meridian of the third day after the recapture of the Dawn, I calculated our position to be just one hundred and four miles to the southward and eastward of Ushant.  The wind had shifted, however, and it had just come out light at north-east.  We went to work, all hands of us, to get in the studding-sails, and to brace up and haul aft; an operation that consumed nearly two hours.  We were so busily employed, indeed, as to have little or no time to look about us, and my surprise was the less, therefore, when the cook called out “sail ho!” I was busy trimming the main-yard, when this announcement was made, and looking up, I saw a lugger standing towards us, and already within long gun-shot.  I afterwards ascertained that perceiving us to be approaching her, this craft had lain like a snake in the grass, under bare poles, until she thought us sufficiently near, when she made sail in chase.  I saw, at a glance, several important facts:  in the first place, the lugger was French beyond all dispute; in the second, she was a cruiser, public or private; in the third, escape from her, under any circumstances, was highly