The Penguin was dreadfully cut up, and Captain Biddle, unable to man her, scuttled and sunk her. Converting the Tom Bowline into a cartel to take the prisoners to St. Salvador, he, with Captain Harrington of the Peacock, waited the arrival of the President. But these two commanders soon received information which convinced them that Decatur had, in all probability, fallen into the hands of the enemy. [Sidenote: April 13.] They, therefore, soon as the time fixed by him had expired, proceeded on the original cruise, steering for the Indian Seas. On the 27th, the Peacock, which was ahead, made signal that a strange vessel was in sight, when all sail was set in chase. At night it fell calm, but a stiff breeze arising with the sun, the chase recommenced and continued till near three o'clock, when the Peacock, about six miles ahead, appeared to be moving cautiously, as if suspicious that all was not right. From the first, the chase was supposed to be a homeward bound East Indiaman, as they were now in the track of those vessels. The sailors of the Hornet were consequently very much elated with the prospect of so rich a prize, declaring that they would carpet the berth deck with India silk, and murmuring that the Peacock sailed so much faster, as she would have the first chance at the plunder. These pleasant anticipations suffered a sudden collapse when the Peacock, at half-past three, signalled that the stranger was an enemy and a line-of-battle ship. Notwithstanding the danger, there was something inconceivably ludicrous in the blank consternation that fell on the ship, exhibited in rueful countenances, the long-drawn whistle or laconic emphatic expression. The next moment, however, all was bustle and confusion--quick and sharp orders rung over the vessel, she was hauled upon the wind, and made off as fast as wind and sail could bear her. The Peacock, being a very fast sailer, soon left the enemy behind. Not so with the Hornet; although she spread every yard of canvass that would draw, it was evident by eight at night the man-of-war was gaining on her. An hour after all hands were turned to to lighten the ship. An anchor and cable first went over with some heavy spare spars and rigging. The ward-room was then scuttled to get at the kentledge, twelve tons of which were thrown overboard. Still the enemy gained, and his huge proportions loomed threateningly through the gloom, filling the crew of the gallant little Hornet with the keenest anxiety. It was a state of painful suspense to Captain Biddle and his officers, and they watched with sinking hearts the steady approach of their formidable foe. At day dawn he was within gun-shot, and soon after, hoisting to the mizen-top-gallant-mast English colors and a rear-admiral's flag, he opened with his bow guns. Captain Biddle then ordered the remaining anchors cut away, the cables heaved overboard, together with more kentledge, shot, provision, the launch and six guns. The firing was kept up for four