“Oh!  Captain Spike,” exclaimed the agitated widow, “do not—­do not, if you love me, do not let them fire again!”

“How am I to help it!” asked the captain, a good deal to the point, though he overlooked the essential fact, that, by heaving-to, and waiting for the steamer’s boat to board him, he might have prevented a second shot, as completely as if he had the ordering of the whole affair.  No second shot was fired, however.  As it afterward appeared, the screams of Mrs. Budd and Biddy were heard on board the steamer, the captain of which, naturally enough, supposing that the slaughter must be terrible where such cries had arisen, was satisfied with the mischief he had already done, and directed his people to secure their gun and go to the capstan-bars, in order to help lift the anchor.  In a word, the revenue vessel was getting under way, man-of-war fashion, which means somewhat expeditiously.

Spike understood the sounds that reached him, among which was the call of the boatswain, and he bestirred himself accordingly.  Experienced as he was in chases and all sorts of nautical artifices, he very well knew that his situation was sufficiently critical.  It would have been so, with a steamer at his heels, in the open ocean; but, situated as he was, he was compelled to steer but one course, and to accept the wind on that course as it might offer.  If he varied at all in his direction it was only in a trifling way, though he did make some of these variations.  Every moment was now precious, however, and he endeavoured to improve the time to the utmost.  He knew that he could greatly outsail the revenue vessel, under canvas, and some time would be necessary to enable her to get up her steam; half an hour at the very least.  On that half hour, then, depended the fate of the Molly Swash.

“Send the booms on the yards, and set stun’sails at once, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, the instant the more regular canvas was spread forward.  “This wind will be free enough for all but the lower stun’sail, and we must drive the brig on.”

“Are we not looking up too high, Captain Spike?  The Stepping-Stones are ahead of us, sir.”

“I know that very well, Mulford.  But it’s nearly high water, and the brig’s in light trim, and we may rub and go.  By making a short cut here, we shall gain a full mile on the steamer; that mile may save us.”

“Do you really think it possible to get away from that craft, which can always make a fair wind of it, in these narrow waters, Captain Spike?”

“One don’t know, sir.  Nothin’ is done without tryin’, and by tryin’ more is often done than was hoped for.  I have a scheme in my head, and Providence may favour me in bringing it about.”