“He may have such a plan in mind, but I misdoubt his being able to carry it out,” the gunner said, as he scanned the horizon. “Unless this is the time when all signs fail, we’ll soon have so much wind that it will be a question of shortening canvas, and the commodore won’t be so venturesome as to fool around among these islands, takin’ the chances of losin’ one or more of the fleet.” Until this moment I had failed to note the unpleasant fact that the wind was rising rapidly. Low-hanging clouds in the east told of a storm, accompanied by more of a breeze than would be comfortable or pleasant, and, in addition, night was close at hand. “The Britisher is in as much danger of coming to grief as we are,” Alec said at length, after observing the signs of which I have spoken. “Our pilot should know the channels as well as theirs, and--” An exclamation of dismay from Master Boyd’s lips checked his speech, and, following the direction of the gunner’s outstretched hand, we saw the gallant little _Scorpion_ come to a sudden stop, roll to and fro for an instant, after which she settled down in such manner as told us she had taken ground. An instant later her canvas was furled, and we knew that, so far as she was concerned, the chase had come to an end. The Britisher had disappeared behind Put-in-Bay island, and she was no more than shut out from our view when the squall burst upon us with a fury such as I have seldom seen equalled. It surely seemed as if the elements conspired to aid our enemies, and at that moment I lost hope. Commodore Perry was a man who appeared to gain courage when the outlook was most gloomy, and now he gave new proof of his ability to command. Signals were set for the fleet to heave to, and when this had been done, the first officer was sent to each vessel with instructions as to where they should anchor. The night had fully come before these orders could be obeyed, and then, from the location of the riding-lights, we could see that each craft had been stationed where she might best guard the outlet from the islands. Unless the Britisher had put to sea during the first outburst of the tempest, she was held prisoner, and we might make her our prize when the day dawned. Master Champlin had already sent word that his schooner was resting easily on the sands, and could readily be hauled off when the wind abated, therefore we no longer had any anxiety concerning the _Scorpion_. As may be supposed, every vessel in the squadron was snugged down in proper shape to ride out the gale, which promised to be as short-lived as it was fierce, and but for the fact that we had lost our prize there would have been nothing to disturb us. The stars were shining brightly at midnight; the wind was no heavier than a gentle breeze, and every man in the fleet remained on the lookout for the Britisher. Before morning the _Scorpion_ was floated, and her captain reported that she had sustained no injury.