On board the Aurora the main-brace was very soon spliced; after which Captain Leicester had the mizzen, gaff-topsail, and, in short, every stitch of canvas that would draw, set to the freshening breeze; then, inquiry having elicited the fact that tea—or supper, as the men termed it—was ready, he ordered the crew to knock off and take the meal whilst they had the opportunity.
George and the two mates had their meal served on deck, the top of the skylight doing duty for a table; and they were about half-way through with it when the pirate schooner was seen to once more haul her wind in pursuit. This, however, gave them no immediate apprehension, as she was far out of gun-shot; the breeze was still steadily freshening, and the Aurora was plunging along at a racing pace over the short sea which had already been raised, with the wind humming merrily through her rigging, and a great foaming surge hissing and buzzing under her lee bow and streaming out in a long trail of bubbling froth behind her.
“We’re going to have a fresh breeze to-night, I think, sir,” remarked the chief mate, as he helped himself to another slab of salt junk, “and, if it’ll only come fresh enough to oblige us to stow our royals, I think that, on an easy bowline—our best point of sailing—we shall be able to fairly run away from that chap.”
“Yes,” said George, “I believe we shall. And if we can only get weather which will give us the advantage over her in the matter of speed, I shall feel very much inclined to turn the tables on her, and give her a good wholesome lesson. It struck me that our gun threw its shot considerably further than hers did.”
“I’m sure it did,” emphatically corroborated Ritson; “and it’d be doin’ a real service to give the piccarooning rascals a thorough good drubbing.”
It appeared, however, as though the fortuitous combination of circumstances hinted at by Captain Leicester was not to be; for before long it became evident that the schooner, notwithstanding the freshening breeze and the increasing sea, was slowly but steadily gaining on the barque. But “a stern chase is a long chase,” and the schooner, while repairing damages, had not only been left astern, but had also been compelled to run a considerable distance to leeward. So that, when the sun set, and the short brilliant tropical twilight faded out of the sky, she was still some six miles distant, broad on the Aurora’s lee quarter.
With the setting of the sun there came a still further freshening of the breeze, laying the barque down upon her side until her lee covering-board was buried, and the water, spouting up through the scuppers, was washing the deck on the lee-side almost up to the coamings of the main-hatchway. The wind was making weird, wild music as it swept through the tautly-strained rigging; and the topgallant and royal-masts were whipping and bending like fishing-rods with every pitch and ’scend of the ship, while the straining canvas, towering away aloft toward the dusky heavens, stood as firm and steady as though moulded in iron. The watch below were in their hammocks, enjoying the repose which they had earned by a day of unusual exertion; and the watch on deck were also, by George’s express command, snatching such a weazel-like sleep as could be obtained consistently with the holding of themselves ready for a prompt call in case of emergency.
The night wore slowly on; the young moon, which had been hanging like a silver crescent low in the western sky, sank beneath the horizon; and the spangled heavens became almost wholly obscured by the broadening masses of dusky vapour which swept rapidly athwart them. There was light enough, however, to render the schooner easily distinguishable with the aid of the night-glass; and George, after attentively watching her for more than half an hour, came to the conclusion that the Aurora was at length holding her own.
“We will clew up and furl the royals, if you please Mr Ritson,” said he to the officer of the watch; “I am getting uneasy about those sticks; and it would be most unfortunate to lose them just now. I believe we shall do just as well without the royals as with them in this fresh breeze. How is she steering? Pretty easily?” to the man at the wheel.
“No, sir,” was the reply; “she’s ‘gripin’’ awful; it takes a half-turn of the wheel to keep her out of the wind.”