Every one on board had by this time had their attention turned to the approaching stranger, and now, as she bore away to leave the wreck to starboard, every eye was fixed on her form. She came gallantly out from behind her fiery veil, riding gracefully on the long surges, and seeming, as her white sails reflected back the flames, more like a spectral than a mortal ship. The momentary admiration with which we gazed on her, as she emerged into view, soon, however, faded before the anxious feelings arising out of the extremity of our peril. But there was nothing to be gained by idle forebodings. The frigate was evidently gaining on us, and it became necessary to spread every inch of canvass we had, in order to escape her. Men also were sent aloft, and buckets whipped up to them, in order that our sails might be kept constantly wet; the masts were eased, the water started, every useless thing thrown overboard, and all the exertions which desperate men resort to were adopted to ensure our escape. After an agitating suspense of five minutes, we found that we were slowly drawing ahead of the frigate, and our hopes were still further raised, in a short space afterwards, by the growing thickness of the fog. “We are not caught this time yet,” said I to Westbrook, “and now for _la belle France_.” “Ay! the skipper’s had enough of such hot quarters as these, I fancy; at least, after such a haul of specie, he’ll not run any more risks if he can help it. Depend upon it, we shall be making love to the fair Parisian _grisettes_ before a fortnight rolls overhead.” “Not so fast, Mr. Westbrook,” said the old quarter-master, who overheard us by chance—“do you see that?” and he pointed to a rocket which that instant shot up from the deck of the frigate, and then arching over in the sky, broke into a thousand sparkles, which fell shivering to the water. “If I know anything of such sky-lighters, that bloody Englishman has a consort somewhere hereabouts—and there he is on our lee-bow, the varmint.” We both turned around hastily as he spoke, and, sure enough, a rocket was seen streaming, comet-like, through the heavens, apparently sent up from a ship well on our lee-bow. “By the true cross!” sung out O’Shaughnessy, at this instant, “here’s another fellow wasting his fire-works to windward. Shure, and, as the thief said to the hangman when he saw the crowd, we’re beset—ohone!”