Several weeks passed away and no prize had been made. A thick fog had hung over the sea since daybreak, shrouding every thing near or far from sight. A breeze springing up soon after noon, the fog lifted, when away dead to leeward a ship was descried, her maintop just appearing above the horizon. Instantly all sail was made in chase. No one doubted but that at length a prize long waited for was to be theirs. They rapidly overhauled the stranger, who, apparently unsuspicious of danger, was holding her course to the northward. As the _Sea Hawk_ neared her, she seemed to be a large ship, her build, her paint and rigging shewing her to be a merchantman. At the same time, as a Spanish ship of her size would certainly carry guns, and as her crew might possibly fight them to defend their freight, the pirates went to their quarters to be prepared for the strife. However, when the brig drew still nearer she seemed in no way inclined to begin the combat. This made the pirates fancy that she would not fight at all, and that they would obtain an easy victory. "We must not let one of the people escape to bear witness against us," said the mild-looking Captain John as he eyed the stranger. Sad was the fate awaiting all on board the merchantman. Nearer and nearer drew the two vessels. So completely did the pirate brig outsail the other that the _Sea Hawk_ might be likened to a spider with a fly in his toils. The brig, hoisting her accursed black flag, sure harbinger of death and destruction, was about to pour in her broadside, when an exclamation escaped the pirate captain. Large folds of canvas were drawn up from the ship's sides, down came tumbling sundry other bits from aloft, the muzzles of twenty guns looked grinning out of her ports, up went the glorious British ensign at her peak, and at the same moment the frigate, for such she was, sent forth a terrific shower of round shot and langrage, which made the pirate brig tremble to her keel, and struck down many a fierce desperado never to rise again.