On the afternoon of Monday, February 16th, we were in hot pursuit of a bark that bore the French flag, and early in the evening, getting within hailing distance, brought her to without firing a gun. She was boarded by some of the piratical officers, and proved to be what her colors indicated; and being direct from the island of Martinique, bound to Havre, the pirates neither gained a prize nor were able to dispose of us by transferring us, as passengers, on board of her. This was a sad disappointment, for we had hoped she might prove a neutral vessel bound to some of the West India islands, and be willing to take us to her port of destination. But another long night, with its doubts and fears and weary hours, came and passed away, when, with heavier and more hopeless hearts, we greeted the morning of the 17th, the evening of which day was to bring the wished-for release. As usual, the beardless midshipmen, armed to the teeth, were constantly ascending aloft and prowling at the mast-head, or on some of the higher parts of the rigging, watching for more prey; when, early in the afternoon, some one of them on the lookout descried a sail far off upon the horizon, which, from the whiteness of her canvas, as well as from its arrangement, was pronounced a “Yankee.” The _Florida_ was put speedily on her track, but not until late in the afternoon were we sufficiently near the stranger to enable Captain Maffit to play the decoy; which he essayed to do this time by unfurling the English flag at the mast-head. The bark then ran up the colors of Denmark, and, courting our vicinage, seemed for a time to be bearing towards us. At the sight of the strange flag, (for strange it was, indeed, not one of the officers or crew of the pirate being sufficiently versed in nautical matters to tell to what nation it belonged,) there was an extraordinary fluttering among these highly cultivated and well-read (?) men, which finally ended in their referring to the officers of the _Jacob Bell_ for the desired information. This point being settled by our not overlettered “Yankee” captain, and the bark not appearing to be in any hurry about courting our acquaintance, but, if anything, gradually shying off from us, Captain Maffit sailed more directly for her, and in the evening, after eight o’clock, fired one of his guns at her, which brought her to, and an officer boarded her. Captain Maffit had told us in the afternoon that, should the bark prove to be a Danish vessel, bound for any of the islands, he should transfer us to her in case they would take us as passengers. We were, therefore, in no ordinary state of solicitude,--not daring to hope for our release, for fear of meeting with another painful disappointment.