discover, they had started
neither tack nor sheet; we therefore proceeded to edge down very
cautiously and very gradually toward her, keeping her about a point on
our lee-bow.

Now we discovered that our task was not going to be nearly so easy as we
had at first thought, for in the very light breath of wind that was then
blowing--and which was wholly insufficient to keep our lower canvas
"asleep"--the stranger undoubtedly had the heels of us, slipping along
so fast, indeed, that within a quarter of an hour of tacking we were
running off with the wind abeam and our weather braces checked, instead
of being upon a taut bowline, as we had been at the beginning of the
chase.

Meanwhile the expected storm, though it had been brewing long, showed
unmistakable signs that it was not going to keep us waiting very much
longer, for the sheet--lightning was flickering almost incessantly,
while a low, deep muttering of distant thunder occasionally made itself
heard. The storm seemed to be working up astern of us, for presently a
dazzlingly vivid flash of chain-lightning rent the darkness over our
weather quarter, quickly followed by a deep, hollow, reverberating peal
of thunder that rumbled like the echo of a seventy-four's broadside.
Another and another quickly followed, each nearer than that which had
preceded it; and presently, far away astern of us, we saw advancing
toward us a sort of wall of vapour, the lower edge of which gleamed
white and phosphorescent as the wind in it lashed the surface of the
water into foam.

"Hands, shorten sail!" was now the word. The watch sprang to their
stations, coils of rope were lifted off their pins and flung to the
deck; then in rapid succession followed the orders:--"Royal and
topgallant halliards and sheets let go; clew up and furl! Hands by the
weather braces; square the yards! Raise main tack and sheet; man the
main clew-garnets, buntlines, and leech-lines; clew up cheerily, lads!
Up helm, quartermaster, and let her go off. So; steady as you go.
Hands by the topsail halliards! Brail in the mizen! Haul down the
flying-jib! Here it comes!"

The squall swooped down upon us with a weird, shrieking howl, and a dash
of wet that was half rain and half spray; and the next moment, with a
tremendous creaking and groaning of timbers and gear, with all three
topsail-yards on the caps, and with the chain bobstay half-buried in the
foam that heaped itself up about our bows, away went the fr