Our watch was called, and Grey and I had to go on deck. I had by this time picked up a large amount of miscellaneous nautical knowledge, so had Toby in his way. As to going aloft, or in feats of activity, few of the other midshipmen could beat me. I said that I could swim well. Our father had taught us all at an early age, and I could accomplish the passage across the mill-pond five times and back without resting. Toby, too, after I had saved him from drowning, had learned the art. It was fortunate for us that we had done so. We had returned unsuccessful from our cruise to the westward, and were somewhere about the chops of the Channel. Night was coming on, and it was blowing very fresh. "A sail on the lee bow!" shouted the look-out from the mast-head. The wind was south-west, and the frigate was close-hauled, heading towards Ushant. "What do you make of her? Which way is she standing?" asked Captain Collyer, who was on deck. "Looks like a lugger, standing up Channel," was the answer. "Up with the helm, keep her away!" exclaimed the captain. "All hands make sail." In an instant the men were hauling on tacks and sheets, braces and bowlines; the yards were squared away, studding sails were set, and off we flew before the wind like an eagle at its prey. The chase kept on before the wind. I had gone up into the fore-top, though I had no business to be there, but it happened to be the station of my particular chum, Grey, and I could enjoy a better sight of the chase from thence than elsewhere. As the evening advanced, the wind increased, but we were gaining rapidly on the chase, and of course the captain was unwilling to shorten sail. Stays and braces grew tauter and tauter, studden sail-booms cracked, and the topgallant masts bent like willow wands. "We are going to get it," observed the captain of the top. He was right. Away flew the main-topgallant studden sail; the topmast studden sail followed. At the same moment, the foremost guns with a loud roar sent a couple of shot after the chase. It was getting dark, but I felt sure that one had struck her counter. Still she held on, and we continued in chase, she carrying as much sail as she could stagger under. "We shall carry the masts out of the ship if we don't look sharp," observed the captain of the top. The yards cracked more than ever. "All hands shorten sail," cried the captain from the deck. "In with the studden sails!" When the men went out on the fore-yard, I, to show my activity and daring to my messmate Grey, went out also. The frigate had begun to pitch and roll a little. By some means I lost my hold, and should have fallen on deck and been killed, had she not rolled at the moment to starboard, and sent me flying overboard. "There goes poor Marmaduke Merry," shouted Grey.