"It is a good-sized spar," he said, "nearly as lofty as the foremast. She is carrying her mainsail with two reefs in it and, with the wind on her quarter, is travelling pretty nearly as fast as she did before. Still, she can't catch us, and she knows it. "Do you see, Mr. Probert, she is bearing rather more to the north. She reckons, I fancy, that after it gets dark we may try to throw the frigate out; and may make up that way, in which case she would have a good chance of cutting us off. That is awkward, for the frigate will know that; and will guess that, instead of wearing round that way, we shall be more likely to make the other." "That is so," the mate agreed. "Still, we shall have the choice of either hauling our wind and making south by west, or of running on, and she can't tell which we shall choose." "That is right enough. It is just a toss up. If we run, and she runs, she will overtake us; if we haul up close into the wind, and she does the same, she will overtake us, again; but if we do one thing, and she does the other, we are safe. "Then again, we may give her more westing, after it gets dark, and bear the same course the lugger is taking. She certainly won't gain on us, and I fancy we shall gain a bit on her. Then in the morning, if the frigate is out of sight, we can make for Santander, which will be pretty nearly due south of us, then; or, if the lugger is left well astern we can make a leg north, and then get on our old course again, for Cape Ortegal. The lugger would see it was of no use chasing us, any further." "Yes, I think that is the best plan of the three, captain. "I see the frigate is coming up. I can just make out the line of her hull. She must be a fast craft." The hours passed on slowly. Fortunately the wind did not freshen, and the vessels maintained their respective positions towards each other. The frigate was coming up, but, when it began to get dusk, she was still some six miles astern. The lugger was five miles away, on the lee quarter, and three miles northeast of the frigate. She was still pursuing a line that would take her four miles to the north of the brig's present position. The coast of Spain could be seen stretching along to the southward. Another hour and it was perfectly dark and, even with the night glasses, the frigate could no longer be made out. "Starboard your helm," the captain said, to the man at the wheel. "Lay her head due east." "I fancy the wind is dying away, sir," Mr. Probert said. "So long as it don't come a stark calm, I don't care," the captain replied. "That would be the worst thing that could happen, for we should have the frigate's boats after us; but a light breeze would suit us, admirably." Two hours later, the wind had almost died out.