Captain Barker signified his approval by a tremendous mouth-filling oath. But he was not yet safe. The second grab was following hard in the wake of the first; and it was plain that the two Indiamen were both somewhat faster than the _Good Intent_; for during the running fight that had just ended so disastrously for the grab, they had considerably lessened the gap between them and their quarry. Captain Barker watched them with an expression of fierce determination; but not without anxiety. If they should come within striking distance it was impossible to withstand successfully their heavier armament and larger crews. The firing had ceased: each vessel had crowded on all sail; and the brisk breeze must soon bring pursuer and pursued to a close engagement which could have only one result. "I may be wrong, but seems to me we’d better say our prayers," Bulger remarked grimly to his gun crew. But Desmond, gazing up at the shrouds, said suddenly: "The wind’s dropping. Look!" It was true. Before the monsoon sets in in earnest it not unfrequently happens that the wind veers fitfully; a squall is succeeded almost instantaneously by a calm. So it was now. In less than an hour all five vessels were becalmed; and when night fell, three miles separated the _Good Intent_ from the second grab; the Indiamen lay a mile further astern; and the damaged vessel was out of sight. Captain Barker took counsel with his officers. He expected to be attacked during the night by the united boats of the pursuing fleet. Under cover of darkness they would be able to creep up close and board the vessel; and the captain knew well that if taken he would be treated as a pirate. His papers were made out for Philadelphia; he had hoisted Portuguese colours, but the enemy at close quarters could easily see that the _Good Intent_ was British built; he had disabled one of the Company’s vessels; there would be no mercy for him. He saw no chance of beating off the enemy; they would outnumber him by at least five to one. Even if the wind sprang up again there was small likelihood of escape. One or other of the pursuing vessels would almost certainly overhaul him, and hold him till the others came up. "’Tis a ’tarnal fix," he said. "Methinks ’tis a case of ’actum est de nobis’," re marked Diggle, pleasantly. "Confound you!" said the captain with a burst of anger. "What could I expect with a gallows-bird like you aboard? ’Tis enough to sink a vessel without shot." Diggle’s face darkened. But in a moment his smile returned. "You are overwrought, captain," he said; "you are unstrung. ’Twould be ridiculous to take amiss words said in haste. In cool blood--well, you know me, Captain Barker. I will leave you to recover from your brief madness."