In the meantime, the stranger had not been idle. She had at first made use of her sweeps; but, as the breeze freshened, she laid them in. Her lofty spars were crowded with canvas, and she seemed to be rather gaining upon us. We could see that her decks were crowded with men; and every now and then she sent a shot after us.
"Talk away, my boys," said the gallant little captain. "I have no time to return the compliment. If I can only keep clear of you till dark, I will weather you yet." The poor little Dolphin glided away beautifully, and proved that she well merited her good character; for, after some hours' chase, the privateer had gained but little upon us; but still there appeared no chance of our escaping in the long run. About noon, the enemy was within range, and no sooner made the discovery, than she began blazing away with her bow-guns, in hopes of disabling us; but fortune, for once in her life, favoured the weaker party. The privateer's shot riddled our sails; but our spars and hull were as yet unharmed, when a well-aimed shot from one of our stern-chasers went through her fore-topgallantsail, and struck the mast just above the cap. Three cheers burst from our gallant crew, as they saw her small masts first bend, then fall forward together before the foretopsail, dragging with them the main-royal and skysail masts. The sailing of the two vessels was so nearly equal, that we now had a decided advantage over the enemy, which Captain Driver did all in his power to make the most of. Two of the foremost guns were trained aft, and the men were all ordered to lie down on the deck close to the taffrail, to bring the ship more by the stern. There were active hands, however, on board the privateer. In a wonderfully short time, the wreck was cleared away, and new spars had replaced the crippled ones. She came crawling quickly up again; and it was evident to all on board the Dolphin, that, unless some unforeseen accident saved us, a few hours would seal our fate.
It was now late in the evening; the sun had set, and dark, louring clouds were hanging over the horizon to the westward. The water was still tolerably smooth, and the wind was a little on our starboard quarter; the privateer was coming up rather to leeward, gaining rapidly upon us, and peppering away as fast as she could with her bow-chasers. Some of her shot told upon our hull, smashing the cabin bulk-heads, but hurting no one; and, fortunately, our spars were as yet untouched. But she was not so lucky—for we could see, by their getting preventer-backstays upon her fore-topmast, that the mast was crippled. Captain Driver perceived that there was no chance of escaping much longer by fast sailing, and he determined to try what stratagem could do for us. He called his men round him, and explained to them what his intentions were; telling them that everything depended upon their energy and activity, and promising them, in the name of his owners, a handsome reward if they succeeded in saving the ship. Immediately after the next shot fired by the privateer, the man at the helm, by Captain Driver's orders, began to yaw the ship about—the stunsails were hauled in—the royal sheets let go—the sails clued up, but not furled—the topgallantsails lowered, and the colours hauled down. Every movement must have appeared to the enemy indicative of terror and indecision; and we could distinctly hear the cheers with which they hailed the lowering of our ensign. In the midst of our apparent confusion, the yards of the Dolphin were quietly drawn forward to starboard, and the men and passengers stationed at the topgallant and royal halyards, and royal sheets. The privateer, which some of our men now recognised as the notorious Hercule of Brest, came bowling upon our larboard quarter, taking in and furling all her small sails, and hauling up her courses. When she was so close to us that we might almost have thrown a biscuit on board, the French captain jumped upon the bulwark with his trumpet in his hand, as if to hail us.
"Now, my lad," said Driver to the man at the helm, "remember what I told you. When I call out to you to put the helm hard a-starboard, put it hard a-port."
The privateer captain was just putting the trumpet to his lips, when Captain Driver bawled out, "Put the helm hard a-starboard!"
As he expected, this order was instantly echoed on board the privateer, who thought we intended to try and run aboard of him. As I said before, the wind was a little on our starboard quarter; and the Frenchman, by paying quickly off, threw his sails aback; while the little Dolphin, her helm having been put to port instead of starboard, flew up to the wind, and, her yards being all ready braced up, darted away like an arrow to windward—this being her favourite sailing point; at the same moment, the topgallant sails were sheeted home and set, and the royals hoisted.
It was some little time before the privateer recovered from the surprise and confusion occasioned by this unexpected manœuvre; and, by the time her yards were trimmed and sails set, the Dolphin had again a good start of her. We had now reason to bless the fortunate shot that had crippled her fore-topmast; for she was afraid to carry such a press of sail as she otherwise would have done. However, disabled as she was, she was still a match for us, and kept throwing her shot after us, in token of her friendly feeling.
"Hurrah, my little beauty!" said Captain Driver, apostrophising his ship; "another hour, and we are safe."
The privateer was gaining upon us slowly but surely, when the night, which, fortunately for us, was dark and gloomy, set in. Captain Driver kept a light burning in the stern cabin, and gave strict orders that every other light in the ship should be put out. He then had a large water-butt sawed in half, and fitted into it a light bamboo staff, to the end of which a lantern was affixed. The tub was well ballasted; and, when all was ready, it was lowered down nearly to the water's edge astern, the lantern lighted, and the lamp in the captain's cabin extinguished. Just as the lanyards were let go, and the tub, with its decoy light, fell into the water, we fired both our stern-chasers, to deceive the enemy, and immediately bore up, and stood away, under a press of sail, to the westward. The night was pitch dark; the wind drawing round to the southward and westward, and with every appearance of further change.
Our ruse succeeded completely. We were only aware of the privateer's position by the bright flashes of her guns, as she fired them in chase, as she thought; and by the twinkling light of the floating lantern, which was, at last, suddenly extinguished, after a brisk fire from the Frenchman. We ran, for a couple of hours, to the westward; and then, the wind gradually heading us, we kept away again for the Channel, and, before morning, we had a fine staggering westerly breeze to help us along.