off.  The enemy, from many signs, is on the point of final discomfiture.  Nay, a just Providence will doubtless punish the wicked fanatics who have waged this cruel and unjust war upon us, in a way to warn and astonish the nations upon earth.  Infidelity and wickedness in every shape let loose upon themselves, must end in total destruction.  The Yankee States have yet to go through an ordeal they little dreamed of in the beginning of their unholy crusade against the Southern people.

On the 12th, the vessel was within fourteen degrees of the equator, but so cool did the weather still continue that all hands were still wearing woollen clothing, and sleeping under a couple of blankets.  The sky continued grey and overcast, with an occasional slight sprinkle of rain, and a stiff breeze.  The barometer falling steadily until, on the 14th March, it had reached as low as 29.96, about the usual standard of the trade winds.

That night brought, however, a slight relief from the long dullness.  It was just midnight when the startling cry of “Sail, ho! close aboard!” was heard from the look-out; and in less than five minutes the Alabama was within hailing distance of a large ship standing close on a wind towards the northward and westward.

“Ship ahoy!—­what ship’s that?” rang hoarsely through the speaking-trumpet from the deck of the Alabama.  But no answer came, and the hail was repeated.  Still no answer, the strange sail keeping steadily on her course, regardless of every thing, her huge hull towering up high and dark as she passed almost within harpooning distance of the Alabama, and shot away again into the darkness, like a phantom that on being spoken to, had vanished away.

But the Alabama could have brought-to the Flying Dutchman himself, if he had attempted to pass by without answering a hail.  “Hands, wear ship!” was the order before the sound of the second summons had well died away.  Up went the helm, round came the Alabama’s head in the direction in which the stranger had disappeared; and with the reefs shaken out of her topsails, away she went in chase like a greyhound after a hare.

By the time sail was made, and headway got on the ship, the chase was some three miles in advance, and gliding swiftly along with a strong breeze.  But though a stern chase is proverbially a long chase, the splendid sailing qualities of the Alabama soon made themselves felt, and within three hours after her helm was put up, she was within a few hundred yards of the stranger, who now hove to at the first summons from the cruiser’s bow-guns.

She proved to be the United States ship Punjaub, of Boston, from Calcutta for London, and having an English cargo on board, as appeared from sworn affidavits among the papers, from the nature of the voyage—­from one British port to another—­and from the cargo of jute and linseed, she was released on a ransom bond for 55,000 dollars, the remaining prisoners from the John Parks being transferred to her for passage home.