Late in the evening, the sound of rapid firing reached our ears, and we knew that the Venus must be engaged, but whether or not with a ship of superior force, it was impossible to decide. It greatly tried our patience to hear the sound of the battle and yet not be able to take part in it. Even I was aroused, and for a time forgot my own troubles. The midshipmen went aloft to the mastheads, but still they were unable to catch sight of the combatants. The fast-coming gloom concealed the clouds of smoke which might have risen above the horizon and shown their position.
The officers walked the deck with hurried strides, their glasses in their hands, every now and then turning them in the direction from which the sound came, though they knew they were not likely to see anything.
The men stood about whistling for a wind until it seemed as if their cheeks would crack.
At last the breeze came; the order was given to trim sails. Never did men fly to their stations with more alacrity.
The days were long, and as night came down at last on the world of waters, we could hear the firing more distinctly than ever, but still we could not see the flashes of the guns.
Next morning a sail was sighted to the south-east. She was standing towards us, but alone.
“She may be the Venus, or she may be an enemy which has captured her, and is now coming on to fight us,” I observed to Dick Hagger.
He laughed heartily. “No, no, Will,” he answered. “Depend upon it, the Venus, if she is taken, which I don’t believe, would have too much knocked about an enemy to leave her any stomach for fighting another English ship.”
“But suppose she is not the ship with which the Venus engaged, but a fresh frigate standing out to fight us.”
“I only hope she may be; we’ll soon show her that slip has caught a Tartar. Depend on’t, we’ll not part company till we’ve taken her.”