But Willis, this time underrated the speed of the vessel in sight, which was a new sloop, and one of the fastest square-rigged vessels that ever carried a sail; and long before he got on a line with her, she had lessened the distance between them to seven or eight miles, and, having seen the schooner, was now crowding on more duck, and heading a little to the eastward; she would, in less than an hour more, be right on board the slaver. This was an arrangement that did not suit Willis at all, but there was nothing for it but to try his heels. And hoping they would stand him in as good stead now as they had on many a former occasion, he put the Maraposa’s helm a-port and ran off before the wind to the northward. Square-sail, studding-sails, ring-tail and water-sails were all set and full; every place an inch of canvas could be put there was one, and the schooner rushed through the water like a mad creature, heaving high the waves, until they ran over her bows and deck in a perfect cataract. But all would not do! Steadily astern of them came on the sloop-of-war, with her lofty sails piled upon one another, until she looked like a mountain, moving in the schooner’s wake. Every moment she gained upon the slaver. In four hours, so rapidly had the sloop come up, she was within gun-shot of the Maraposa, whose doom seemed sealed, as a shot from the sloop’s bow gun fell into the water, just ahead of her, showing she was within range, and also as a signal to the slaver to surrender. But Willis had no such intention; and in answer to the shot ran up to his main-gaff the flaunting ensign of Spain. “That proud Englishman thinks he is certain of the little slaver, but if ever he gets any prize money out of her sale I will be very much mistaken!” said Willis, as another shot from the sloop struck the Maraposa’s starboard quarter, carried away the quarter davit, and dropped one end of her stern boat in the water, just as the flag unfurled itself in the wind; but the man-of-war knew the schooner was in her power, and did not wish to cut such a beautiful craft to pieces with her shot, and determined to carry the slaver by boarding. On she came, therefore, silently, until her flying-jibboom was even with the schooner’s tafferel, when the captain of the man-of-war, jumping up on the hammock-nettings, ordered the schooner to surrender or he would board her. The slaver’s crew were all at quarters, and looked as quiet as desperate men, determined to die rather than surrender, always do.