“We must try, at all events, to get hold of her before nightfall,” observed Jack, “or she will be playing us another trick, and give us the go-bye in the dark.”
“We’ll try and do that same, sir,” said Needham; “if the wind holds with us as it does now, it won’t be a difficult job. She doesn’t seem to have much of it out there, and we are getting up fast with her.”
The Supplejack, indeed, was gaining rapidly on the schooner, but the treacherous wind soon gave indications of not being inclined to favour the British brig. Dark clouds gathering in the sky came sweeping rapidly over it.
“All hands, shorten sail,” shouted Jack, with startling energy; “be smart about it, lads.”
Every one saw that not a moment was to be lost. Royals and topgallant-sails were handed, two reefs taken in the topsails, the courses were clewed up, not an instant too soon, either—for over heeled the brig till the sills of her lee ports dipped into the water. One of those tornados, so frequent in the West Indies, had struck her, though on coming up to the wind she faced it bravely. Down came the rain, a real tropical torrent, the drops as they fell being of the size of marbles, leaping up again with a loud rattle, like that of hail, and literally deluging the deck.
In vain the sharpest eyes of those on the lookout endeavoured to pierce the watery veil. The rain completely hid the slaver and all the surrounding vessels. It was feared that she, taking advantage of the chance offered her, would do her best to escape. The question was, in what direction would she fly? She would have a clear passage through the Gulf of Florida, but then she well knew that she would be followed by the nimble Supplejack. Rogers, therefore, came to the conclusion that she would steer for the Bahama Channel, where, if she could not escape herself, she might hope to lead her pursuer to destruction. Needham was firmly of opinion that she would take that direction. Night was coming on, and she would have a long start, but Jack determined to chance it, and persevere.
“With the chart to help us, a bright look out, and the lead going, we may disappoint her ladyship,” he observed, laughing.
“It’s an ugly place, I’ll allow, sir,” said Needham; “but we must not be afraid of ugly places, or we shall not do much in catching these slaving gentry. It can’t be much worse than we have seen in the China Seas, and off the coast of Africa.”
The tornado having passed over, the brig’s head was again put to the south-west, and a bright lookout being of course kept, all hoped to fall in once more with the Venus. The night was an anxious one; the watch below turned in ready to spring on deck at a moment’s notice.
Neither Jack, Bevan, nor Needham lay down, the former constantly sweeping the horizon with their night-glasses, in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the schooner. As the first streaks of dawn tinged the eastern sky, all hands were roused up to make sail, and just as the orb of day, like a mountain of fire appeared above the horizon, the sails of the schooner were discerned on the port bow, standing, as was conjectured, for one of the numerous intricate passages among the dangerous Bahama shoals. Every stitch of canvas the brig could carry was immediately packed on her.