It was some little time before the privateer recovered from the surprise and confusion occasioned by this unexpected manoeuvre; and, by the time her yards were trimmed and sails set, the Dolphin had again a good start of her. We had now reason to bless the fortunate shot that had crippled her fore-topmast; for she was afraid to carry such a press of sail as she otherwise would have done. However, disabled as she was, she was still a match for us, and kept throwing her shot after us, in token of her friendly feeling. "Hurrah, my little beauty!" said Captain Driver, apostrophising his ship; "another hour, and we are safe." The privateer was gaining upon us slowly but surely, when the night, which, fortunately for us, was dark and gloomy, set in. Captain Driver kept a light burning in the stern cabin, and gave strict orders that every other light in the ship should be put out. He then had a large water-butt sawed in half, and fitted into it a light bamboo staff, to the end of which a lantern was affixed. The tub was well ballasted; and, when all was ready, it was lowered down nearly to the water's edge astern, the lantern lighted, and the lamp in the captain's cabin extinguished. Just as the lanyards were let go, and the tub, with its decoy light, fell into the water, we fired both our stern-chasers, to deceive the enemy, and immediately bore up, and stood away, under a press of sail, to the westward. The night was pitch dark; the wind drawing round to the southward and westward, and with every appearance of further change. Our ruse succeeded completely. We were only aware of the privateer's position by the bright flashes of her guns, as she fired them in chase, as she thought; and by the twinkling light of the floating lantern, which was, at last, suddenly extinguished, after a brisk fire from the Frenchman. We ran, for a couple of hours, to the westward; and then, the wind gradually heading us, we kept away again for the Channel, and, before morning, we had a fine staggering westerly breeze to help us along. At daylight, nothing was to be seen from the mast-head; and we cheerfully pursued our voyage, rejoicing in our fortunate escape. We had now time to think of and to lament the hard fate of our shipmates, who had been so cleverly entrapped. "Sandford's luck, again," said I. "Poor fellow, how strange it is that such a fatality always seems to attend him!"