And from the way the vessel trembled and shook it could be told that the irate tars down below were making things hum.
"They may burst the boilers if they can," thought Clif, grimly.
The new course they were taking was south, exactly the opposite of the way they had been going. But Clif did not care about that.
"The storm will drive us faster!" he gasped. "And every yard counts."
The Spanish gunboat (nobody on the Maria, of course, knew but what she was a big cruiser) fired only about half a dozen shots at her daring enemy; then the yells of the crew of the small boat must have attracted her attention and forced her to desist for a moment.
"And now's our chance," was the thought of the Americans.
They were making the most of it, that was certain; they were fairly flying along with the great waves.
Clif himself was at the wheel, seeing that not an inch was lost by steering wrongly.
"We'll know soon," he muttered. "Very soon, for she'll chase us."
The scene at this time was intensely dramatic; for the big ship had glided out into the darkness and those on board of her could not see their pursuer. They had no means of telling where she was, or whether they had escaped or not.