We thus continued to cruize in good order, and with great hopes, till the 27th March, when I had to suffer the most prodigious piece of treachery that could be imagined.  We used to cruize off and on, at a convenient distance from the shore, so as not to be discovered from the land, yet so that it was impossible for any ship to leave the port of Acapulco without being seen by us.  As my ship did not sail so well as the Success, Clipperton used to shorten sail, particularly at night, and shewed us lights on all necessary occasions.  Towards evening of that day, he stretched about two leagues a-head of us, and I could not see that he lowered even a topgallant-sail for us to come up with him.  I kept standing after him however, till almost a-shore on the breakers, when I had to tack and stand out to sea.  Next morning no ship was to be seen, which reduced us to the most terrible apprehensions, considering our sad situation for want of water, and our vast distance from any place where we could expect to procure any, as we had now no other choice but either to beat up 220 leagues to the Tres Marias, or to bear away for the gulf of Amapala, at a much greater distance.  I was afterwards informed, by some of Clipperton’s officers, whom I met with in China, that he had done this cruel action absolutely against the repeated remonstrances of his officers, who abhorred such an act of barbarity.  I also learnt afterwards, by some Spaniards from Manilla, that the Acapulco ship sailed about a week after we desisted from cruizing for her.  This ship was the Santo Christo, carrying upwards of forty brass guns, and was exceedingly rich.

In the sad situation we were now reduced to, every thing was to be hazarded, and any experiment tried that promised the smallest chance of success.  We continued our course therefore, under terrible inconveniences, distressed for water and provisions, and weak in point of number; yet so far from being united by our common danger, that our people could not be restrained within the bounds of common civility.  The winds and weather being favourable, we found ourselves before the port of Sansonate [273] on the 30th March, about sun-set, when we discovered a ship of good size at anchor in the harbour.  Being a fine moonlight evening, I sent my first lieutenant in the yawl, with some of our best hands, to see what she was.  Soon afterwards we heard some guns fired, and on the return of the lieutenant, he reported that she was a stout ship, having at least one tier of guns.  Little regarding her apparent strength, or our own weakness, as we thought our necessities made us a match for her, we continued plying in all night, and prepared to engage her.  At sun-rise the land-breeze blew so fresh from the shore, that we worked in but slowly; and in the mean time we received all their fire on every board we made, but without returning a single shot.  Their boat also was employed in bringing off soldiers from the shore, to