The young man’s countenance wore a grave expression, as, returning the glass to his mate, he said, “Gregson, it is, as we supposed, a French frigate. We may, perhaps, creep along under the shore without his noticing our small craft.” The old seaman riveted the glass upon the stranger, as if he wished to count every sail and plank. During the examination, he grunted two or three inarticulate ejaculations, in unison with which his hard features underwent various contortions; and his young commander waited with no little impatience for what he called his “overhauling.” “She’s neither more nor less than that infernal Epervier, commanded by L’Estrange. She’s one of the fastest sailers in their navy; and as for our creeping past her without being seen, he’s the wrong sort o’ man for that fun: herring or whale, all’s fish for his net!” “I have often heard of him,” said Ethelston: “they say he’s a fine fellow.” “That he is, to give the devil his due, as jolly an old dog as ever lived, and much too good a seaman for a mounseer. Look’ee there, captain,” added he, after another squint through the glass; “he’s altering his course already—two or three points free, and the reefs shaken out o’ the tops’ls. We shall hear from him soon.” “Can we give him the slip by bearing up for the eastern passage?—We should then show him our tail; and a stern chase is a long one.” “We might try if you wish it, captain; but it blows fresh, and she won’t be very fond of this lee shore. I think, if you allow me to advise, we’d better hug it; take the chance of a long shot in rounding that headland, and then run for the inner channel behind the Isle of Pines. He’ll not be after following us there; or, if he does, the frigate’s keel will chance to scrape acquaintance with a reef.” “You are right, Gregson,” said Ethelston. “The Pride may fetch that point on this tack. Keep a close luff, Harrison.” “Luff it is, sir,” was the reply, as Ethelston went below to consult his chart, and to prepare himself for entering the intricate channel between the Isle de Pinos and the main island. The gallant little brig well sustained her high character as a sailer, and dashed her bows fearlessly through the foaming waves, under a press of canvasss such as few vessels of her tonnage could have borne. The breeze was freshening, and the frigate now shaped her course with the evident intention of cutting off the chase from rounding the headland before mentioned. The men on board the brig were now clustered forward, anxiously debating the probable issue; while Cupid steamed away in his caboose, preparing the dinner as quietly as if there had been no frigate to windward, nor a rock–bound shore to leeward; but though he seemed thus busied in his usual avocations, he cast every now and then his dark eye upon The Epervier; and few on board could estimate better than himself the danger of their situation.