In three days after leaving the Samballas Islands, we had beat so far to the norwest, that we counted upon being rather to windward of Carthagena, and from nine to twelve leagues distance from the coast. The west winds blow here with very little intermission, the land-breeze being very slight when it does come, which is but seldom. It was necessary now to determine exactly upon our mode of proceeding, and this was the plan we adopted. The prize which we expected was a private Patache, or treasure-ship, which, not waiting the convoy of the great fleet which sails once in every three years from the West Indies for Spain, intended, as we were informed by Mr. Pratt’s prisoner, to risk the chances of the homeward passage unprotected. Now, it was clear, that the first thing which we had to do, was to ascertain whether the Patache, or galleon, was still in Carthagena, and if so, when she would probably come out. Our next care would be to keep to sea, and watch the coast and the harbour, so as, if possible, to prevent the galleon putting off unknown to us; while, at the same time, we managed so as to prevent any alarm being excited upon the coast. With this view, we would, of course, run in tolerably close with the land at nights, keeping further in the offing during the day, and showing as little sail as possible. But our first business, as I have said, was clearly to ascertain that the mouse was actually in the hole; and that we might be sure, we determined to venture well in towards the harbour that very night, and, if possible, capture some small coasting craft or fisherman, who could give us the information which we required. Accordingly, we turned the schooner’s head to the southward, and ran along with a pleasant breeze abeam. By sunset we saw the land; and so correct was our reckoning, and so skilful our pilots, that John Clink and Captain Jem, who knew the coast well, pronounced the hummock, on which we were gazing, to be a high hill just behind the city of Carthagena, on which there stands a cathedral, which boasts of a very rich shrine, dedicated to the Holy Virgin, and of which more hereafter. Carthagena itself is principally built upon a small sandy island in a bay. The city lies upon the seaward side of the island, which is connected, by a long wooden bridge, with the suburbs or faubourgs along the main coast, the strait being, as may be supposed, a mere belt of shallow water. Well, by ten o’clock, we saw the lights of Carthagena quite plainly ahead of us; and afraid of venturing too near, we hove to, and kept a good look out around us. But the sea was as shipless, as though it heaved round a desolate island. The breeze was light and fitful, and we lay tossing on the long swell, our bows plunging deeply, and our gaffs and sails creaking and surging in perfect solitude. One by one the lights on shore disappeared, as the citizens went to bed, quite unwitting who was watching the gleam from their