“Ay, I suppose the laws require this with English vessels; with Americans, they are less particular; at all events, you see the whole of us, and I should be very glad to get a hand or two, if possible, out of your cutter.”

“Where are you bound, master?—­Before we ship, we’d like to know the port we sail for.”

“Hamburg.”

“Hamburg!  Why, master, you’re not heading for Hamburg, at all, which lies up the English, not up the Irish channel.”

“I am well aware of all that.  But I am afraid to go into the English channel so short-handed.  Those narrow waters give a man trouble, unless he has a full crew.”

“The channel is a good place to find men, master.  However, none of us can go with you, and no words be necessary.  As you’ve no occasion for a pilot, we must be off a’ter something else.”

The fellow now left me, without more words, and I saw there was no use in attempting to detain him.  He had got a league from us, and we were jogging on our course, before we discovered he was making signals to the brig, which had kept dead away, and had set studding-sails on both sides.  As this was carrying much more sail than we could venture to show, I thought our chance of escape small indeed.  There was the whole day before us, with a light, and doubtless fast-sailing cruiser in chase of a heavily-loaded merchantman.  As a stern-chase is, proverbially, a long chase, however, I determined to do all we could to avoid the gentleman.  Sail was made, accordingly, so far as we dared, and the ship was steered a little off, as her best mode of sailing, in her present trim.  We saw the brig speak the pilot-boat, and, from that moment, were certain her commander had all the conjectures of the Scilly man added to his own.  The effect was soon to be noted, for when the two separated, the cutter stood in for her own rocks, while the brig renewed her chase.

That was an uneasy day.  The man-of-war gained, but it was quite slowly.  She might beat us by a knot in the hour, and, being ten miles astern, there was still the hope of its falling dark before she could close.  The wind, too, was unsteady, and towards noon it grew so light, as to reduce both vessels to only two or three knots way.  Of course, this greatly lessened the difference in our rate of sailing, and I had now strong hopes that night might come, before our pursuers could close.

Nor was I disappointed.  The wind continued light until sunset, when it came out a fine breeze at north-west, bringing us dead to windward of the brig, which was then distant some six miles.  We got the proper sail on the ship, as fast as we could, though the cruiser was dashing ahead under everything she could carry, long before we could get through with the necessary work.  When we did get at it, notwithstanding, I found she had not much the advantage of us, and now began to entertain some hopes of shaking her off in the course of the night.  Marble was confident of it, and his confidence, on points of seamanship, was always entitled to respect.