Publisher's Synopsis
"You are right, sir; still, for myself, I should prefer a strong southerly wind and a clear sky." "Well, I am afraid you will not get your wish, for the clouds certainly seem to be banking up from the north, and we'll get a change of wind ere long." By night the wind was blowing fiercely and the sea rapidly rising. The sails were closely reefed, and even then they felt with pleasure that the little craft was making good way. The wind increased during the night, and was blowing a gale by morning. Just at twelve o'clock a craft was seen approaching which all were convinced was an Algerine. She changed her course at once and bore down upon them, firing a gun as a signal for them to stop. "She is rather faster than we are," Dimchurch said, "but we'll lead her a good dance before she gets hold of us. She could not work her guns in this sea, and if she is the faster, at least we are the handier." For three hours the chase continued. Again and again the Algerine came up on them, but each time the little boat, turning almost on her heel, so cleverly was she handled, glided away from underneath the enemy's bows. Each time, when they saw the chase slipping away from them, the angry Moors sent a volley of musketry after her, but the fugitives took refuge in the cabin, or lay down on the deck close under the bulwarks, and so escaped.
