When calmer moments, however, succeeded to his wrathful feelings of disappointment, he began to think deeply on the course which it was prudent to adopt, in order to have a probable chance of capturing or destroying the schooner. The batteries and the crew of the ship, he rightly concluded, were of no use against an enemy that was sufficiently wise and experienced always to keep beyond the range of his guns; and, as for overtaking the schooner, it was a matter of absolute impossibility. He could decide on no clear plan. He, therefore, resolved, in that conjuncture, to sail about in those parts under little canvass, and trust to accident for a means of capturing the pirate vessel. The ship was, therefore, kept under only a part of her sails that whole night, and she moved almost imperceptibly.
At the first dawn of the next morning, watches were sent up the masts, and the horizon was carefully surveyed in search of the enemy which night had shrouded. Nothing was to be seen. The watch was, nevertheless, continued.
About four hours after sunrise, a vessel could be barely distinguished on the horizon. It was steering in the direction of the man-of-war. It rapidly approached, and as it drew nearer and nearer, it was discovered to be a long, low, sharp-built brig, with white port-holes, apparently a Mediterranean trader. She sailed so fast, that within three hours from the time when she was first discovered, she was opposite the large ship. She passed her at a short distance, but beyond the range of her guns.
The man-of-war immediately hoisted her ensign as a signal to the brig to show her colours; in answer to this signal, the strange vessel hoisted the Mexican flag.
The extraordinary speed of the strange brig, her low hull, the more than ordinary symmetry of her make and rigging, could not pass unobserved. They at once attracted the notice, and called forth the admiration of the sailors on board of the man-of-war; and leaning carelessly on the bulwarks, they were studying the beautiful brig before them, and were viewing her with the delight that seamen experience when they see a fine vessel.
“If that ain’t that ere identical pirate customer as we chased yesterday,” said an old grey-headed sailor, gravely, as he stood looking at her, “it’s one of the same sort, I know.”
“What are you saying, now,” asked a young man next to him.
“Why, the vessel we chased yesterday was a fore-and-aft schooner, and this one is a brig: where are your eyes?”
“Is this all you know?” inquired the old tar, indifferently, with a slight satirical smile. “Well, let me tell you, younker, that them ere customers change their skins, just like snakes, by G—d; and these eyes of mine that you inquire of, winked at a sou-wester long before you knowed what was what, my boy,” and the old seaman walked away to attend to some passing occupation, while, from time to time, he cast a stealthy look from under his spreading straw hat, at the vessel he seemed to hold in suspicion.
This feeling towards the Mexican brig was not confined to the common sailors alone: all seamen have an eye for the beautiful in ships. The commander himself was struck by the remarkably fine proportions of the vessel. He interrupted his habitual walk to gaze at her.