At last, her hull was visible from the deck.
Mr Saltwell had his glass fixed on her, as had Captain Fleetwood.
“What do you make her out to be, Mr Saltwell?” said the captain.
“She is polacca rigged, with raking masts, and has a long, low, dark hull,” answered the first lieutenant.
“The very description of the Sea Hawk,” exclaimed Linton. “I hope to goodness it may be her.”
“I trust it may,” said Captain Fleetwood, drawing in his breath, and compressing his lips, to conceal his agitation.
The excitement on board now increased, as there appeared a greater probability of the stranger proving to be the pirate.
Anxiously beat the heart of Captain Fleetwood. What might be the consequence, supposing the prisoners were on board, and his Ada among them? Would the pirate hold them as hostages? Zappa, he was aware, well knew, from what he had learned at the ball at Malta, how dear Ada Garden was to him, and what, in consequence, might be the pirate’s conduct?
His orders were to burn, sink, or destroy the rover, wherever he should find him; and he resolved to do his duty.
As he walked the deck in silence, he glanced his eye aloft more frequently than usual to see how the sails stood. They were never better set. Every brace and bowline was taut to a nicety. Then he would look over the bulwarks to judge of the rate at which they were slipping through the water, by the appearance of the sparkling bubbles, as they darted off from the side, and circled in eddies under the counter, and many an earnest gaze did he cast at the chase to assure himself that he was still coming up with her. It is a saying, that when a hare runs, the dogs will follow—it is equally true at sea, even when the order is reversed, if a vessel makes sail in chase, the chase will generally run away. Hitherto the officers of the Ione had found the vessel in sight offering an exception to the rule.