“Round there, with the foretop-sail—haul in fore and aft—belay all!” came in quick succession from the quarter-deck, as we bowed before the breeze, and dashing the spray on either side our cutwater, went off almost dead in the wind’s eye. The sharp wind, as it sang through our cordage, and the momentary dashing of the sea across our bows, as we thumped against the surges, afforded a pleasant relief to the occasional creaking of the shrouds, or the dull monotonous sounds of the water washing lazily alongside, which we had been listening to for the last hour. The change had an exhilarating effect upon our spirits, which was perceptible as well among officers as among men. Besides, we were all eager for a prize. Every man, therefore, was at his station, and a hundred eager faces looked out from the forecastle, the tops, or wherever their owners chanced to be. The captain, too, was upon deck, scanning the stranger with a scrutinising eye. “Can you see her hull yet, Mr. Parker?” he asked. “No, sir—her courses show to the very foot—but here it comes—six ports on a side, sir, though they look like painted ones.” “She’s setting her light sails.” “Every one of them, sir: and wetting down their mainsail.” “How are her decks?” “Crowded, sir. There’s the glancing of a musket as I live; ah, of a dozen. She carries troops, sir, I fancy.” “A transport?” “Aye, sir!” The interest had gone on deepening, during these rapid questions and answers, until at my last reply a suppressed buzz ran around the ship. No one spoke, but each looked into his messmate’s face, and it was obvious that the question, “could we capture our opponents, or would we ourselves become the prey?” was uppermost in every mind. But the person most interested in the event was apparently the least concerned of any; and without moving a muscle of his face, the captain leisurely closed his glass, and turning, with a smile, to his lieutenant, said,— “We shall be likely to have a sharp brush, Mr. Lennox; in fact our men are getting rusty, and we want something of a close-contested battle to burnish them up. We shall open the magazine, and go to quarters directly.” Every thing that could be made to draw, was by this time set, and we were eating into the wind after the stranger with a rapidity that promised even to the most sanguine of us a speedy realisation of our hopes. As we gained upon the merchantman, the crowded state of his decks became more and more apparent, and we could plainly detect, by means of our glasses, that every exertion, even to wetting down the sails to the royals, was being made on board of him to escape. But all was in vain. Few vessels afloat could beat us on the tack we were now going, nor was it long before we had the chase within range of our long Tom. “She hasn’t shown her bunting as yet,” said Captain Stuart, “but we’ll throw a shot across her, run up our flag, and see what answer she makes.”