The respective positions of the vessels may be thus described. The corvette was to the north, with her head south-east, while the Turk was running due east; thus approaching each other on two sides of a triangle, of which the apex was towards the east.

Now was the most trying moment for all on board the Turkish vessel, yet still there was one remote chance of escape—a hazardous one unquestionably; and yet, in preference to captivity, it was worth while to risk destruction. They might, by running down to the Russian, and pretending to submit, pass under her stern, and escape before the wind. Yet it was an experiment, the very mention of which might be derided as the proposition of madmen.

The moment the Russian perceived the change of course the chase had made, the corvette hauled her wind without stopping to take in sail, and recommenced firing her guns, to allow no chance to escape, should the wind again fail, of capturing her almost certain prey. The balls, as before, at first flew harmlessly through the air, or plunged into the deep, as, towering in her pride; on she came, heeling over to the furious blast, and casting the foaming waters high over her broad swelling lofty bow.

Yet the power, the majesty of man’s greatest achievement, seemed as nought amid the strife and tumult of nature. The roar of the artillery was mocked to scorn by the far louder crash of heaven’s thunder, and the wild tumult of the waves. The flashes of the guns were far outshone by the brightness of the vivid lightning; but none in either vessel seemed to regard the violent fury of the elements, too intent were they on their own desperate game.

During this awful and critical interval, Ivan stood firm and collected, though a sad fate seemed to await him. On one side, he saw imprisonment, degradation, and a hopeless exile: on the other, a certain death, should the Russians, as was but too probable, when there was no prospect of a prize of value, run down the vessel which had given them so much trouble; or if she refused to yield, sink her with their guns. Ivan earnestly prayed for the latter fate: for of what value would life be to him, with all its lofty aspirations overthrown, his hopes blasted? What but misery and hopeless slavery, chains and toil, could he expect, if he escaped with life? Javis had brought him his sword, which he held firmly in his grasp, yet somewhat mechanically, perhaps, as if it would be a satisfaction to die with that in his hand: while Javis, casting glances of scowling defiance towards the foe, stood ready to defend his master if it were possible.

And young Conrin, where was he during this time of tumult and danger? Calm and undismayed, he too stood by his master’s side. His courage seemed to have risen with the imminence of the danger. It was not ignorance of the peril of their situation which gave him that cool and intrepid air; for he marked it well, as with unflinching glance he gazed ever and anon at the coming foe, and then fixed his large flashing eye intently on his master’s face. His brow and cheek were paler than usual, and his lips compressed: yet it seemed that, although an awful death was about to overwhelm all on board, his features wore an air of almost satisfaction and happiness; but he spoke not, nor moved from his post. It was strange that so young a boy should show such courage at so trying a moment, when hardy seamen quailed and turned pale with terror.

Well did the gallant old Hadji show that his heart was fearless, and that he was a warrior-leader of a brave people, whom no danger could daunt, as rousing himself from his prayers, he stood defying his enemies, and prepared for the worst. Of his followers and the crew, some took courage from his example, and bravely grasped their arms, in the futile hope of, at least, having one blow for life; while others, pallid and trembling with dismay, tried to shelter themselves behind the bulwarks of the vessel.

The Russians continued firing without intermission, the shots every instant falling closer to the mark, till one went through the Turk’s after-sail, and another followed, striking his deck, ploughing up the wood, and throwing the splinters on every side, ere it bounded overboard. A few more fell harmlessly; but they were now approaching frightfully near the Russian, and they could scarcely hope to escape more of his shots. Another of these missiles came on board tearing away part of the bulwarks, striking one of the seamen, and carrying his mangled body with it into the sea. At this event, even the hardy captain’s presence of mind forsook him: his courage for a moment gave way; and quitting his post, he wrung his hands in despair, leaving the vessel to her fate.

At this critical juncture, Ivan sprang aft, seizing the captain by the arm, and forced him to resume his place at the helm.

“For shame, Reis Mustapha!” he exclaimed. “You, have hitherto behaved like a brave, good seaman, continue to prove that you really are one. Regard not the shots till they sink us. That can but be our fate at the last, when all hope has flown. While you live, use all means, all exertions to escape, for Providence may yet rescue us from destruction.”