“She may have seen you, and sheered off. Stand straight for her, as nigh as you can guess. The fog is lifting, as you say. If you sight her, signal instantly. Lieutenant Donovan, have you heard Bowler's news?” “Sure an' if it wasn't for the fog, I would. Every word of it come to me, as clear as seeing.” “Very well. Carry on a little to the south, half a league or so, and then stand out, but keep within sound of signal. I shall bear up presently. It is clearing every minute, and we must nab them.” The fog began to rise in loops and alleys, with the upward pressure of the evening breeze, which freshened from the land in lines and patches, according to the run of cliff. Here the water darkened with the ruffle of the wind, and there it lay quiet, with a glassy shine, or gentle shadows of variety. Soon the three cruisers saw one another clearly; and then they all sighted an approaching sail. This was a full-bowed vessel, of quaint rig, heavy sheer, and extraordinary build--a foreigner clearly, and an ancient one. She differed from a lugger as widely as a lugger differs from a schooner, and her broad spread of canvas combined the features of square and of fore-and-aft tackle. But whatever her build or rig might be, she was going through the water at a strapping pace, heavily laden as she was, with her long yards creaking, and her broad frame croaking, and her deep bows driving up the fountains of the sea. Her enormous mainsail upon the mizzenmast--or mainmast, for she only carried two--was hung obliquely, yet not as a lugger's, slung at one-third of its length, but bent to a long yard hanging fore and aft, with a long fore-end sloping down to midship. This great sail gave her vast power, when close hauled; and she carried a square sail on the foremast, and a square sail on either topmast. “Lord, have mercy! She could run us all down if she tried!” exclaimed Commander Nettlebones; “and what are my pop-guns against such beam?” For a while the bilander seemed to mean to try it, for she carried on toward the central cruiser as if she had not seen one of them. Then, beautifully handled, she brought to, and was scudding before the wind in another minute, leading them all a brave stern-chase out to sea. “It must be that dare-devil Lyth himself,” Nettlebones said, as the Swordfish strained, with all canvas set, but no gain made; “no other fellow in all the world would dare to beard us in this style. I'd lay ten guineas that Donovan's guns won't go off, if he tries them. Ah, I thought so--a fizz, and a stink--trust an Irishman.” For this gallant lieutenant, slanting toward the bows of the flying bilander, which he had no hope of fore-reaching, trained his long swivel-gun upon her, and let go--or rather tried to let go--at her. But his powder was wet, or else there was some stoppage; for the only result was a spurt of smoke inward, and a powdery eruption on his own red cheeks.