cope, the breeze comes along right out of the red sky abeam where
the steamer was, with twice its former strength, roughening the blue
water into hollows, and bowing down the yacht till the slope of her
deck was like a roof. The crew jumped about shortening canvas, and the
yacht began to snore as she felt the wind. On a sudden, and as if the
steamer had only just then spied us, she altered her course by three
or four points, as one could see by the swift rising of her hull,
till, whilst the sun was still hanging a middling height over the sea
line, you could see the whole of the vessel--a long, low craft of
about one hundred and fifty tons--sweeping through the seas like an
arrow, the smoke streaming black and fat from her small, yellow
funnel, and her hull sinking out of sight one moment and reappearing
the next in a sort of jump of the whole foaming wash, as if, by Jove,
her screw would thrust her clean out of the water.

"The lady looked at her with a sort of indifference; but Mr. Robinson
was pale enough as he handed me the glass, and said, 'Williams, see if
you know her.'

"I took a look at her, and answered, 'It's hard to tell those steamers
till you see their names, sir; but if she's not the Violet,
belonging to General Coldsteel (of course these are false names),
she's uncommonly like her. But, law bless us! how they're driving
her! Why, there'll be a bust up if they don't look out. They'll blow
the boilers out of her!'"

'Indeed, I never before saw any vessel rush so. She'd shear clear
through some of the larger seas, and you didn't need watch her long to
make you reckon you'd seen the last of her. Then Mr. Robinson, talking
like a man half in a rage, half in a fright, orders me to pack sail on
the schooner; but it was already blowing a single-reef breeze, and I
had no idea of losing our spars, and so I told him very firmly that
the yacht had all she needed, and that more would only stop her by
burying her: and I had my way. But we were foaming through it, too; we
wanted no more pressure; the freshening wind had worked the schooner
into a fair nine knots, and it was first-rate sailing too, considering
the character of the sea and the weight of the breeze. 'Twas now
certain beyond all question that the steamer meant to close us, though
I thought she had a queer way of doing it, for sometimes she'd head
right at us, and then put her helm down and keep on a course parallel
with ours, forging well ahead and then