"I'm afraid that means trouble for some of us, unless the men-o'-war keep a good sharp lookout," observed Mr Bowen to George, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the rapidly receding brig, as the two men walked the deck together, criticising the appearance and sailing powers of the various craft in company. "Ah, indeed?" remarked George. "I see you have come to the same conclusion as myself with regard to the stranger, which is that she is a French privateer." "Just that, sir, and nothing else," was the reply. "She is French all over; no need for her to show her colours; her rig speaks her nationality plain enough for a blind man to read it. She's been on the watch for this fleet for the last week or more, you may depend on it, and now she has gone back to report the news to her consorts that the West India convoy has sailed. Mark my words, sir; we shall all have to keep a good sharp lookout, or a few of us will be snapped up yet, in spite of the men-o'-war, before we sight the next land." "Well," said George, "we must take care that the _Aurora_ is not one of the few, that is all. Luckily, we are not exactly the dullest sailer in the fleet; and we must manage to keep well in the body of it. It is the outsiders that will run the greatest risk." For the next three or four days an unusual amount of vigilance was observable on board the men-o'-war, especially the frigates and gun-brigs, all of which kept well in the offing during the day, evidently on the lookout for prowling picaroons, and closing in again upon the convoy at night; but nothing was seen to keep alive suspicion; no ships of any description were encountered, save a couple of English frigates, each of which replied to the private signal and exchanged numbers with the _Tremendous_; and on the evening of the tenth day out the lofty, precipitous cliffs of the Azores were sighted and passed. Another week sped away without the occurrence of any incident worthy of record; the wind continued fair and steady; and the convoy, though its rate of travelling was rather slow, made very good progress. On the afternoon of the eighteenth day out from Plymouth, the fleet being at the time in latitude 32 degrees North, longitude 44 degrees 30 minutes West, or about half-way to Jamaica, the wind fell light; the sky, which had hitherto been clear, became overcast, heavy masses of dark, thunderous cloud slowly gathering in the south-western quarter and gradually spreading athwart the sky until the whole of the visible heavens were obscured. The barometer dropped slightly, indicating, in conjunction with the aspect of the sky, a probable change of wind and a consequent interruption to their hitherto highly satisfactory progress.