At daylight the next morning we were off the Texel, and could see the low sand-hills: but we had scarcely made them out, when the fog in the offing cleared up, and we made a strange vessel. The hands were turned up, and all sail made in chase. We made her out to be a brig of war; and as she altered her course considerably, we had an idea that she was an enemy. We made the private signal, which was unanswered, and we cleared for action; the brig making all sail on the starboard tack, and we following her--she bearing about two miles on out weather-bow. The breeze was not steady; at one time the brig was staggering under her top-gallant sails, while we had our royals set; at another, we would have hands by the top-gallant sheets and topsail halyards, while she expanded every stitch of canvas. On the whole, however, in an hour we had neared about half a mile. Our men were all at their quarters, happy to be so soon at their old work. Their jackets and hats were thrown off, a bandana handkerchief tied round their heads, and another, or else their black silk handkerchiefs, tied round their waists. Every gun was ready, everything was in its place, and every soul, I was going to say, was anxious for the set-to; but I rather think I must not include the captain, who from the commencement showed no signs of pleasure, and anything but presence of mind. When we first chased the vessel, it was reported that it was a merchantman; and it was not until we had broad daylight that we discovered her to be a man-of-war. There was one thing to be said in his favour--he had never been in action in his life. The breeze now fell light, and we were both with our sails set, when a thick fog obscured her from our sight. The fog rolled on till we met it, and then we could not see ten yards from the brig. This was a source of great mortification, as we had every chance of losing her. Fortunately, the wind was settling down fast into a calm, and about twelve o'clock the sails flapped against the mast. I reported twelve o'clock, and asked the captain whether we should pipe to dinner. "Not yet," replied he, "we will put her head about." "Go about, sir?" replied I with surprise. "Yes," said he; "I'm convinced that the chase is on the other tack at this moment; and if we do not, we shall lose her." "If she goes about, sir," said I, "she must get among the sands, and we shall be sure of her." "Sir," replied he, "when I ask your advice, you will be pleased to give it. I command this vessel." I touched my hat, and turned the hands up about ship, convinced that the captain wished to avoid the action, as the only chance of escape for the brig was her keeping her wind in the tack she was on. "'Bout ship--'bout ship!" cried the men. "What the hell are we going about for?" inquired they of one another, as they came up the ladder.