Jack saw the breeze coming, and gave an order to trim sails to take advantage of it so as to go in pursuit of the gig with Don Diogo in her. The frigate lay about eight miles off and of course had not perceived the escape of the Don. She being more in the offing, would get the sea-breeze first. Jack and Terence watched her trimming sails, and then her white canvas began to bulge out, and on she came gliding proudly towards them. Not long afterwards they got the breeze. To tow the cutter would have impeded them, so they dropped her to be picked up by the frigate and stood after the gig. Don Diogo had got a long start, but still, from the gig pulling heavily, as they knew to their cost, they did not despair of overtaking her. Everything was done to increase the schooner's speed, as it was important to get hold of one of the most daring slave-dealers and slave-captains on the coast--a man whose head had grown grey in the vile traffic in which he was engaged, and who had already spent half a dozen fortunes made by it. "Paddy, I believe we shall catch the Don after all," exclaimed Jack, who had been watching the gig through a glass, and at the same time inspecting the coast beyond. "I can make out no creek for him to run into, and if he attempts to beach that boat he will be swamped to a certainty." "And serve him right too," answered Terence. "But, hillo, what is that for?" As he spoke a shot fired from the frigate came whizzing over their heads. Another and another followed in rapid succession. One of them flew directly between their masts. "I don't like to heave-to, or we shall lose our chance of catching the Don," observed Jack; "but this is getting rather too serious to be looked upon as a joke." It was, indeed, for in another second, three or four more shot came crashing through the sails and against the spars of the schooner, one of which, the foretop-gallant yard, was shot away. "We must signalise them, and beg them to be aisy," cried Terence. "But, hillo, I say, Jack, who could have left that abominable flag flying at the peak?" There, sure enough, at the peak of the schooner flew out the often disgraced flag of Spain. "We'll haul it down, and settle that point afterwards," said Jack, suiting the action to the word and hauling down the flag. He was but just in time to save the schooner from a tremendous peppering, which the frigate, now ranging close up astern, had prepared for her. Jack ran up the rigging nearest the frigate, and pointed ahead to show that he was chasing something; indeed, by that time the gig when looked-for must have been seen clearly from the deck of the frigate. "I am glad we did not fire into you, my lads," shouted Captain Lascelles through his speaking-trumpet. "You've done well--very well, but why did not you haul down the slaver's flag?" "We'd so much to do, we never saw it, sir," shouted Jack in return. "There's the slaver's captain--we're after him."