All our sails were soon set, and the nearest frigate, fortunately for us, but without any apparent reason, tacked and immediately wore round again in chase,--a manoeuvre that occupied some ten minutes, and allowed us to gain a distance, which though short, proved to be of the utmost importance to our safety. By sunrise our ship was entirely becalmed and unmanageable, while the ships astern retained a light breeze till it brought three of the frigates so near that their shot passed beyond us. The distance was, however, too great for accuracy, and their shot did not strike our ship. Our boats were soon hoisted out, and the ship's head kept from the enemy, and exertions were made to increase our distance from them by towing. This and occasional cat's-paws, or slight puffs of wind, enabled us to gain nothing. A few guns were fired from our stern-ports; but so much rake had been given to the stern that the guns could not be used with safety, and their further use was relinquished. All means were adopted which seemed to promise any increase of speed. The hammocks were removed from the nettings, and the cloths rolled up to prevent their unfavorable action; several thousand gallons of water were started and pumped overboard, and all the sails kept thoroughly wet to close the texture of the canvas. While making all these exertions, our chances for escape were considered hopeless. For many years the ship had proved a very dull sailer, especially during the late cruise, and it was supposed that the first steady breeze would bring up such a force as would render resistance of no avail; and our situation seemed hopeless. At about eight A.M. one of the frigates called all the boats of the squadron to her, and having arranged them for towing, furled all sails. This brought her toward us steadily and seemed to decide our fate. Fortunately for us, a light breeze filled our sails and sent us forward a few hundred yards before her sails could be set to profit by it.