We were glad to hear it; for even cotton could be foregone for the sake of English rifles, hospital stores, and army stuffs. We cracked on more steam, unfurled the top-gallants, and made all preparations for a short chase. We had been to Philadelphia for coal, and were still fifty knots from our old blockading station on the North Carolina coast, to which we were returning. There was a heavy sea from the tempest of the day before; but the sky was cloudless and the moon unusually bright, and our craft was the swiftest in the squadron; so that, with so much sea-room, we had little doubt of overhauling the stranger before she could reach the protecting guns of Fort Macon. A mere speck at first, the object of our attention grew rapidly bigger as we sped on under the extra head of steam and the straining top-gallants. She enlarged against the sky until she grew as big as a whale, and in a few moments we distinguished the column of black smoke which her low chimneys trailed against the sky; but she seemed to have little canvas stretched. Indeed, the gale was yet so strong that any extensive spread of sail was imprudent. “See what you make of her, Bracetaut,” said the Captain, handing his telescope to the weather-worn seaman. “I would be sure that she’s none of our own.” “Clyde-built all over,” mused the Lieutenant, with his eye to the tube. “No one but a Cockney could have planted her masts; and her jib has the Bristol cut. She sees you and is doing her best. I doubt if you catch her.” “We’ll see about that,” retorted the skipper. “Let out the studdin’ sails! trim the jib!” he roared through his trumpet. “I’ll spread every rag if we scrape the sky! More head if possible, Jones,” he added; and the engineer went below to see what could be done. The gale was strong, and her head of steam was already great; but we soon seemed to leap from crest to crest under the stimulus of replenished fires, and the masts fairly bowed beneath their press of canvas. Everybody was agog with excitement, and half the seamen were in the rigging gazing ahead and speculating as to the vessel and her contents. “Try her with the big bow-chaser, Captain,” suggested the Lieutenant; and the order was immediately given. Boom! went the huge piece, as we quivered on the summit of a lofty wave, and the rushing bolt flashed a phosphorescent light from a dozen crests ere its course was lost in the distance. “No, go! it’s a good three miles,” growled Captain Butler, measuring the interval once more with his glass. “Let me try,” said Bracetaut, quietly taking his stand behind the gun, which was now being charged anew, and carefully adjusting the screws. Again the sullen thunder spouted from the port, and we marked the ball by its path of fire.