During all this time there was a stiff breeze blowing, and this it was that gave the cutter the advantage. As already intimated to me by Brace the barque was a “crank” vessel, and carried sail badly under a wind; though, in fair weather, or with a light breeze, she was one of the fastest sailers on the sea. It was for this quality she had been chosen for the peculiar trade in which she was employed—for swiftness, not stowage, are the points of advantage in a slave-ship. The poor negro is usually packed as closely as any other species of merchandise, and a large cargo of them can be stowed in a small space—for it is rare that the slightest consideration of humanity enters the thoughts of their inhuman stevedore.
The barque then had been built for fast sailing—but more especially in light winds, such as those denominated “trade-winds,” and others that are usually encountered between the tropics and the “line.”
The cutter, also, sailed well in a light wind, but equally well in a stiff breeze—when under the stronger impetus of a gale—and as it had now freshened almost to a gale the latter vessel was having the advantage. Even under such a wind she still continued to carry most of her sail—her main and second jibs above being hauled down, along with her gaff-topsail while her storm, spitfire, and third jibs were still kept bent to the breeze.
The barque, on the other hand, had to haul down both royals and topgallant-sails, and close-reef her topsails. She was thus far from going at her fastest, but it blew so freshly it would have been dangerous for her to have spread another inch of canvas, and her people well knew it.
Under these circumstances the cutter was evidently gaining upon her; and if the breeze should continue at the same rate for two hours more the Pandora must certainly be overhauled and captured.
As soon as her crew became convinced of this, they set to work to hide all the implements of their nefarious trade. The manacles and shackles were put into a cask and headed up. The hatch-gratings, which the carpenter had been so long in making, were broken up and disfigured—so that their purpose could not be recognised—and the muskets, pistols, and cutlasses were stowed away in some secret part of the hold. There was no intention of making use of these, and showing fight against such an adversary. Small as was the cutter in comparison with the barque, the crew of the latter knew very well that that of the former would far outnumber them, and that any attempt at resistance to such a well-armed, sharp-toothed little ship of war would only bring her guns upon them, and end the conflict in the loss of at least half their number. They entertained no hope, therefore—except to escape by fast sailing—and as this was now well-nigh given up, they set to work to prepare themselves for passing an examination. Several of the crew actually hid themselves in order to avoid the suspicion which their numbers might create; for, as I had already observed, there were too many hands for a ship engaged in the ordinary way of commerce.
At a last measure the old skipper had got out his “ship’s papers,” which, of course, had been prepared for such an emergency, and which were to show that he was “all right.”
In this way the Pandora now awaited the nearer approach of her hostile pursuer.
The cutter had gained rapidly, and had at length got within less than a mile’s distance, when a gun was fired from her bow-ports that sent the shot ricochetting over the water, and close to the hull of the barque. A signal was also hoisted for the latter to “lay-to.”
My heart beat wildly within my breast. It seemed as if the hour of my deliverance had arrived; and yet I felt a contrary belief—a presentiment that it was not yet to be! Alas! that presentiment proved too true. With all the appearances in favour of our being captured it was not to be. The destiny of the Pandora was different.