“I hope so too. It will not be my fault if I do not follow you soon,” I replied, “only, I say, Kennedy, take care that the brig is not recaptured by any of those same dunder-headed rebels.”
“No fear, no fear; I’ll keep too bright a look-out for that,” he answered, laughing.
He had a fair wind and every prospect of a quick run, so that I hoped to find him at New York when I got the chance of going there.
On the 30th we again parted from the Daphne, and soon after gave chase to a sleep, which, after firing a few shots, we brought to. I was at once sent on board to take possession. I found her armed with eight carriage four-pounders, fourteen swivels and four cohorns, and laden with rum, porter, flour and bread, and I dare say she would have proved as ugly a customer to any small craft she might have fallen in with as she would have been a welcome guest at the port to which she was bound. Grampus and Tom Rockets had accompanied me as part of my boat’s crew. Scarcely had I got on board when another sail was seen from the mast-head of the Orpheus, so Captain Hudson ordered me to keep them and another man, and to send the prisoners on board with the rest of the crew, which done, I was to cruise about in the neighbourhood to wait his return. A midshipman’s personal comfort is not much considered on such occasions, so that I was unable to get any clothes or even a change of linen before my ship was standing away with all sail set in chase of the stranger last seen. My prize, I found, was called the Colonel Parry.
“What do you think of our craft?” said I to Grampus, who had been running his eye over her, inside and out.
“Why, Mr Hurry, she’s seen no little service in her time, I’m thinking; and if so be there comes a gale of wind, she’ll require delicate handling, or she’ll be apt to go t’other way to what the schooner we last took did. Now, to my mind, sir, the weather doesn’t look at all pleasant like, and I shouldn’t be surprised but what we get a pretty heavy gale of wind before nightfall.”
“I think so too,” said I. “There’s one comfort, if we do not fan in with the ‘Orpheus’ again for a month to come, we’ve provisions enough on board—we shall not starve.”
Old Nol’s prognostications were fulfilled even sooner than we expected; a black, heavy bank of clouds came rolling up towards us; and as the frigate’s top-gallant sails, shining with peculiar whiteness against the dark mass, sank beneath the horizon, we were pitching our bows into a heavy sea under a close-reefed mainsail and foresail. We had made ourselves as snug as we could, but not a moment too soon. Had there been a trysail on board I should have set it. Even with the sail she had on her the vessel strained very much, and sometimes I thought she would make a perfect dip of it and go down head foremost. However, I had done all I could do, and must await the result.
“What’s the matter now?” said I to Grampus, who had gone below for a short time.
“Why, sir, the old tub is taking in water rather faster than we are likely to pump it out.”