“Is she standing this way?”
“Yes, sir, under top-sails and top-gallant-sails, I think.”
The officer of the watch went down to report to the captain, who had not yet turned into his cot. Captain Delmar had been informed that a Dutch frigate was expected at the island, but not until the following month; still we had no reason to suppose that there were any of our frigates down in these latitudes, except those lying in the harbour at Curaçao. The wind was light, about a three knot breeze, and there being no moon till after twelve o’clock, it was very difficult to make out what she was. Some said she was a two-decked vessel. The captain went down to look at his private signals for the night, and before he came up I was all ready with the lanterns.
“Two lights over one in a triangle; be quick, Mr Keene.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied I.
The lights were soon hoisted at the peak, but as they could not well be seen by the other vessel, as we were standing towards her, we went about and hove to across her hawse. For a quarter of an hour she continued to stand towards us without noticing the signals; at last the captain said, “They must be all asleep on board of the vessel.”
“No, Captain Delmar,” replied I, keeping my telescope on the vessel, “they are not all asleep, for I saw lights on the main-deck through the bow-ports. I see them again now.”
“So do I,” said the first lieutenant.
“Then we’ll beat to quarters, Mr Hippesley,” rejoined the captain.
The men were summoned to quarters, and hammocks piped up and stowed in a very short time, the guns cast loose, and every man at his post (but the ports not opened), waiting the coming down of the stranger, now about a mile distant, when suddenly she rounded to the wind on the same tack that we were, and set her royals and flying-jib.