The brig-of-war was taking long sweeps and plunges before the wind; the Southern Cross right away on her larboard quarter, and the very same stars spread all out aloft, that I’d watched a couple of nights before, close by Violet Hyde. The whole of what I’d just heard was nothing to me in a single minute, matched with the notion of never seeing her more. Everything I’d thought of since we left England was gone, even one’s heart for the service; and what to do now, I didn’t know. I scarce noticed it commence to rain, till a bit of a squall had come on, and they were hauling down stu’nsails; the dark swells only to be seen rising with the foam on them, and a heavier cover of dull cloud risen off the brig’s beam, as well as ahead; so that you merely saw her canvass lift before you against the thick of the sky, and dive into it again. ’Twas just cleared pretty bright off the stars astern of us, however, wind rather lighter than before the squall, when the captain thought he made out a sail near about the starboard beam, where the clouds came on the water-line; a minute or two after she was plain enough in the clear, though looming nearly end-on, so that one couldn’t well know her rig. Thinking at first sight it might be the schooner, Captain Wallis was for bracing up, to stand in chase and overhaul her; but shortly after she seemed either to yaw a little, or fall off again before the wind like ourselves, at any rate showing three sticks on the horizon with square canvass spread, and evidently a small _ship_. “Some homeward-bound craft meaning to touch at the island!” said Captain Wallis, telling the first lieutenant to keep all fast; by which time she was lost in the dusk again, and I wasn’t long of going below. A fancy had got hold of me for the moment, I can’t deny, of its being the Seringapatam after us, on Westwood’s owning himself; whereupon I persuaded myself Captain Wallis might perhaps take the risk on him of letting us both go. For my part, I felt by this time as if I’d rather be in the same ship with _her_, hopeless though it was, than steer this way for the other side of the Line; and I went down with a chill at my heart like the air about an iceberg.