The brig, that had yawed wide, immediately followed suit, and just here the strangest thing occurred. Whether one of the guns that she had been firing earlier in the day had not been re-aimed or whether some accident in the firing took place has never been ascertained; perhaps some impressed seaman gunner who had been taken by the press-gang in a British port now found the moment to wreak his vengeance. At all events, a shot from one of the brig’s broadside guns went so wide of the mark that it caught the foretopmast of the big one full and square just above the hounds and brought it, with a tangle of sails and rigging, lurching and swinging down to deck, where the wreckage poised for a minute and then, swayed by the wind, tangled in the head-sails and brought the vessel almost to a stop. The chase was over! The Revenge slipped on her way, and as Conyngham looked back he could see his two pursuers shortening sail. “Somebody’ll swing for that, Mr. Minott,” observed the captain. “And somebody would have swung if it hadn’t happened, sir,” returned the mate, giving up the wheel, which he had been handling himself, to the now grinning helmsman. “What course, sir?” asked the latter. “Hold as you are,” Conyngham answered. “We’ll make some port in Spain.” Two days later the Revenge entered the harbor of Corunna. CHAPTER XIV ON THE IRISH COAST A very peaceable craft indeed the Revenge appeared to be as she lay at anchor in the Spanish harbor, as all evidence of her real character had disappeared. But of course Captain Conyngham did not intend long to live up to this peaceable appearance; his chief concern was to procure another armament, gather his crew together, and, nothing daunted, put back to the rich cruising grounds. It was his settled purpose to enter the Irish Channel and pick up some of the fat prizes that he knew were there ripe for the picking. He had been forced to moor the Revenge to one of the naval mooring-buoys when he first entered, but upon explaining that he had lost both anchors during a stress of bad weather, the captain of the port had allowed him to remain until he could procure others. To his delight, Conyngham had noticed five or six of his prizes lying farther up the harbor, and the Revenge herself had been recognized by some of the prize-crews that were still on board the latest captures. As soon as possible Conyngham had pulled to shore and sought out the agents of the mysterious mercantile house of Hortalez and Company. At the offices of Signor Lazzonere, whom should he meet but the elder Ross! Eager and warm were the greetings. Ross had so much to ask and so much to tell that he found it difficult to begin. “Upon my word, captain,” he said at last, “could I have had a prayer answered, you could not have appeared at a more opportune moment. There is the old Harry to pay in France--upon no account must you return there, for----”