Here be a master excelleth in skill."
"My heart! it be a true saying, don't halloo till 'ee be out o' the wood," said Amos, grimly.
"Zuggers! but you be a molkit, Haymoss, a molly-caudle to be sure. Go aft, Haymoss, and cuddle the ship-boy and say your prayers."
Turnpenny raised his arm to strike the insolent fellow, but Dennis whispered him to let it pass; there was nothing to be gained by a fight at the present moment, even supposing they prevailed against the odds.
Hour after hour the chase continued. The moon went down, but still the three vessels could be seen in the dim starlight. Clearly the Mirandola, good sailor as she was, could not shake them off. Biddle ceased to boast; his blustering confidence was changing to dismay, for he now perceived that though he had drawn further and further away from the vessel that had fired, her consort to windward was becoming more clearly visible. He had not reckoned on so obstinate a chase; moreover, being unable to read a chart, he had no idea whither the vessel was heading. There was no chance of doubling. To alter the course would be to lose time, and allow the persistent pursuer to make up on her. She seemed indeed to be gradually decreasing the distance between them, though the other two were out of sight.
So the chase went on through the hours of darkness, and daybreak showed two vessels far astern, but the third without doubt creeping up slowly but surely. Biddle, weary with the long night's work, was in a sullen rage; the other men watched the pursuer with undisguised terror; Dennis and Turnpenny, holding themselves aloof, looked on with curiosity and something of amusement.
"Jan Biddle be no fool," said Turnpenny once. "I could not have handled the craft better myself. But 'tis not an end."
Then, when the spirits of the crew were depressed to the lowest, an early morning mist settled down upon the sea, blotting the pursuer from sight.
"Jaykle! 'tis a mercy!" cried Biddle, rousing himself.
He instantly changed the course of the vessel.