“I would give a half-year’s pay if we could but catch her,” exclaimed Snatchblock to some of his messmates. “If night comes on before we are up to her, she may give us the go-by after all.”
The wind, which had been variable all day, still continued so, and now once more came from the eastward. The chase immediately took advantage of it to alter her course. The corvette had now gained greatly on her.
“I think our bow-chasers will reach her,” said Murray. “Try them, Adair; we will see if we can knock away some of her spars.”
The excitement on board increased, and every one now felt as if the chase was already within their grasp. The gun was run out. Murray gave the word, “Fire!” Scarcely had its loud report rung through the air, than his voice again was heard—
“All hands, shorten sail! In studding-sails and royals. Let fly tacks and sheets.”
The corvette had been taken aback, but every man was at his station, and the sails came in without the loss of a royal or studding-sail-boom. As soon as the sails were handed, and the ship wearing round was put before the wind, the chase was eagerly looked for; she was seen running before the wind for the northeast. Her bearings being taken, the corvette steered directly for her, but darkness, which had been rapidly coming on, now hid her from sight, and even the most sanguine gave up all hopes of finding her again. Still Murray determined to keep after her as light as she was; he was convinced that with a strong wind blowing she would continue before it.
The first watch was set, the watch below turned in, and many a grumble was heard at their ill success. Adair, who was officer of the watch, was walking the deck, with Desmond by his side. The wind still blowing fresh, he had his eye aloft on the spars, ready to shorten sail should it increase. The sea, however, was tolerably smooth; a few stars only could be seen among the clouds which passed rapidly across the sky. The night was therefore rather darker than usual. The wind whistled shrilly in the rigging, and Desmond declared that he could hear strange sounds coming across the waters. A sharp lookout was, of course, kept ahead, and hopes were still entertained that the chase might possibly be again sighted. Snatchblock, who was on the forecastle, hailed in a loud, sharp voice, “Sail ahead! the chase! the chase! That’s her! No doubt about it.”
Adair and Desmond hurried forward, but by the time they reached the forecastle no sail was to be seen. Snatchblock, however, was positive that he had not been mistaken. He rubbed his eyes in vain, and peered into the gloom. She was certainly not visible. Adair, who had returned aft, was pacing the deck, when suddenly a tremendous shock was felt. He and others on deck were nearly thrown off their legs, and a cry arose of “We are on shore! we are on shore!” The watch below came tumbling up on deck, fully believing that the ship had struck. One of the hands seizing a leadline, sprang into the chains and hove it.
“What induced you to do that?” asked Adair.
“I thought we had struck on a rock, sir,” was the answer.