I felt more inclined than I had ever done since my childhood to burst into tears. I think I should have done so from very vexation and disappointment, had I not been obliged to hurry to my station, putting my letter in my pocket as I did so.
It was trying, every one will allow, for all this time my dear wife could not tell what had become of me. My other friends might think me dead, but I knew that she would never believe that to be the case until she had strong evidence of the fact. Even if she had, I felt sure nothing would ever induce her to marry again.
The wind was fair up Channel. Arriving nearly abreast of the Start Point, we ran out to the southward, the captain hoping to fall in with one of the two French frigates which a short time before we and the Venus had chased into Cherbourg. One of the two was, as I before said, the Sémillante, the other was the Cleopatra.
On the morning of the 18th of June, just as day broke, the Start bearing east by north, distant five or six leagues, we discovered a sail in the south-east quarter, and immediately afterwards bore up in chase, carrying all the canvas we could set. As we approached the stranger, we felt nearly sure that she was the very French frigate we were in search of. She was under all sail, some of us thought, for the purpose of getting away.
“We shall have another long chase, and if that there craft has a fast pair of heels, she’ll get into Cherbourg and make us look foolish,” said Dick Hagger as we watched her.
We stood on, and soon had the satisfaction of discovering that we were sailing faster than the stranger. The captain and several of the other officers were examining her through their glasses.
In a short time they formed the opinion that she was no other than the Cleopatra which had before got away from us, and such we afterwards found to be the case.
A shout rose from our deck when we observed her haul up her foresail and lower her topgallant sails, showing that she had made up her mind to fight us.
In about two hours and a half, we got so near that we heard some one from her quarter-deck hail us.
Captain Pellew, on this, not making out distinctly what was said, shouted, “Ahoy! ahoy!” when our crew gave three cheers, and right hearty ones they were, and shouted, “Long live King George.”