Lieutenant Morris had no desire to shed more blood, and he therefore, after giving orders to load the long gun, kept his position by it, with his match ready, but forbore to hail the boat, well aware that any thing like a taunt from him would bring the gallant crew forward even to certain death, and confident that a few moments reflection would convince the officer of the boat that, if he should make the assault, he would more likely be a candidate for immortality than for promotion. To such a conclusion did that worthy officer arrive, and having picked up all his wounded companions, his boat returned to the Arrow, the slow, heavy strokes of the oars showing how different were the feelings of those that held them, from the excited valor with which they pulled toward the privateer but a short hour before. For the remainder of the day the two vessels held their relative positions, but the heavy clouds gathering over the western sky portended a storm of wind during the night, and the crew of the Raker felt no little anxiety, as they were well aware that the frigate being much the heaviest, would have every advantage over them in the chase. But there was but one way, and that was to run for it, not yielding till the last moment--for a sailor never yet sailed under the stripes and stars, that would not rather see his flag shot down by an enemy's ball, than strike it with his own hands. The wind increased by the hour of sunset to so strong a blow, that it seemed impossible that the little privateer should escape the frigate--and it was not to be doubted that the two vessels would be alongside each other before morning; yet the Raker was saved, and by American hands. On board the Arrow were several native-born American seamen, who had been pressed into the English service, and compelled to serve even against their own country. Three of these sailors were among the middle watch on board the frigate. They had watched the whole conduct of the Raker with a patriotic pride, and were in no slight degree vexed and disappointed when they saw that the frigate must in all probability overtake the little brig. These three sailors were together in the bow of the frigate, the rest of the watch being on the look-out, or pacing up and down between decks. "I say, Bill," says one, "isn't it too d--d bad that the little craft has got to be overhauled after all. She's given this cursed frigate a good run for it, anyhow." "Yes she has; the old man has looked black all day, and sworn a little I guess; here he's kept all ready for a fight for the last two days--arm-chests on deck--cutlas-racks at the capstan and for'ard--decks sanded down--and haint got within a long shot yet. God bless the little brig, and the flag she sails under--the stars and stripes forever!" "Yes, the stars and stripes--'tis just the handsomest flag that floats." "By Heaven, and that's the truth! but avast now, Bill, can't we do any thing for the little craft ahead?"