I took one and went back to the quarter-deck.  The speck to leeward showed a bit of storm canvas flying, and we soon could make out she was a large ship hove to like ourselves on the port tack.  Her hull showed now and again on the seas, and after drifting down toward her for about an hour, the light grew strong enough to make her out plainly.  She was a large ship, English built, with a turtle-backed stern, painted white on the tumble-home of the quarter.  Her hull was black, and the foam showed in long white lines of streamers as it was blown across her topsides.  She was making heavy weather of it, and every now and again she would ram her nose clear out of sight in the high-rolling sea.  Then she would rise heavily, with the white water pouring from her dripping forefoot and wallow dismally, until her weather rail would appear to roll under.

The stump of a foremast showed forward and a stout maintopsail strained away amidships, while aft, where the mizzen should have been, there was nothing showing above her deck.  Her main topgallant mast was also gone at the cross-trees, but the maintopsail held strongly.  Altogether she was pretty well wrecked aloft.

While we watched her we drew nearer, and when she came within a couple of miles I could make out a flag, the English ensign, union down, in the main rigging.  This showed pretty plainly that she was doing badly and wanted help, but it was absolutely useless to think of doing anything for her while the wind held and the sea showed no signs of going down.

Being much lighter than she was, we drifted off more, and we came nearer and nearer as the morning brightened into a dirty day.  In a short time we had her close under our lee, not half a mile distant.  Indeed, it looked as though we might get closer than we wished to.  The wind slacked gradually, however, and before long we managed to get out our main-topmast staysail.  Then followed a close-reefed foresail balanced aft by the mizzen lower topsail, which we had saved.  This, with the spencer and canvas already set, gave us a good hold of the ship in spite of the sea, and we were ready to wear if necessary.  The Pirate drifted much faster under the extra canvas and went to leeward so far that we saw that she would go clear of the stranger.  As we drew near, we now saw how deep she sat in the water, the seas rolling over her, amidships, with every plunge.  Still she headed up well and was under control.

While we gazed, a string of flags fluttered from her yard-arm.  I dived below for the code and soon read the signal for help.  They were sinking.

Trunnell turned out on deck, and we waited to see if Captain Thompson would give the word to do anything.  He stood near the rail and gazed through his glass without saying anything or exhibiting any concern whatever for the people we could now see upon the stranger’s high poop.

Then he turned to the mate and asked:—­