The _Rose_, as I have said, was a clipper. The wind had somewhat freshened, and in this pursuit the vessel brought it about a point before the beam. Far ahead leaned the barque, tall and unsightly, heeling out to the sun a space of green copper, whilst at this moment a foretopmast studdingsail went slowly soaring to the yardarm. Captain Jones gave a loud laugh of contempt. He knew that his ship could sail three feet to the barque's one, even though the chase should heap the canvas of a _Royal George_ upon herself. He went on to his forecastle and sent a man aft for a large black board, upon which he wrote in chalk:-- * * * * * GIVE 'EM UP OR--I'LL RUN YOU DOWN. * * * * * As the _Rose_ overhauled the barque--and had she been a steamer she could not have overtaken her more swiftly--the black board was held on high by a couple of seamen so that it could be read on board the stranger. Captain Jones on the forecastle head watched the chase through his glass. The words "_Martha M. Stubbs_, Windsor, N.S.," were written in large white letters upon her stern. Nothing was to be seen of Mr. Chips and the Only Mate. A man wearing a fur hat, resembling Robinson Crusoe's, paced the short poop of the barque. He carried a glass in his hand, and to judge by the frequent glances he directed at the _Rose_, it was to be guessed that he had interpreted the handwriting on the black board. The breeze freshened. Sheets and tacks strained to the increased pressure. The _Rose_, with foam midway to the hawsepipe, went shearing alongside the barque within pistol shot. "Hard up!" shrieked the man in the Robinson Crusoe cap, and the fellow at the helm made the spokes spin like the driving wheel of a locomotive. "Hard up and into him!" roared Captain Jones, and round fizzed the wheel of the _Rose_ in true firework fashion. For the next two hours the _Rose_ was occupied in endeavouring to run down the barque, the barque on her side cutting a hundred nimble nautical capers to evade the shearing stem of the enraged Jones. But at the end of two hours it had become plain to the man in the Robinson Crusoe hat that the _Rose_ was in earnest. He then gave up, backed his maintopsail yard, and sent the Only Mate and Mr. Chips aboard the _Rose_ in a boat pulled by two men. Captain Jones at once put Mr. Chips into irons and sent the Only Mate to his cabin. He then called to the two fellows who were sitting in the boat under the gangway: "Are ye undermanned?" "Fearful--ly," was the answer. "I thought so," said Captain Jones. "Step on board, my livelies, and have a glass of grog afore you return."