of those big shells
came crashing into the schooner, it would be as likely to hit him as
anybody else, and if the privateer were cut off from the Inlet and
captured, he would be taken prisoner with the rest of the crew and sent
to some Northern prison. Of course, Marcy could not make the captain of
the war ship believe that he did not ship on the privateer of his own
free will, and that he was strong for the Union; and indeed it would be
dangerous for him to try, for the folks at home would be sure to hear of
it sooner or later, and then what would happen to his mother? As the
young pilot turned these thoughts over in his mind, he came to the
conclusion that he would feel a little safer if he knew that the
schooner would reach the Inlet in advance of the steamer, but he was
obliged to confess that it looked doubtful. She was coming up rapidly,
land was a long way off, and it would be many hours before darkness came
to their aid.

"That rain squall out there is our only salvation," Marcy heard the
captain say to one of the mates. "When it comes up we'll haul our wind
and run for Hatteras. The cruiser will hold straight on her course, and
if the squall lasts long enough we may be able to run her out of
sight."

Although Captain Beardsley was frightened at the prospect of falling
into the hands of those whose flag he had insulted, he did not lose his
head. The plan he had suddenly adopted for eluding the steamer proved
that he could take desperate chances when it was necessary. By hauling
his wind (which in this case meant shaping the schooner's course as near
as possible toward the point from which the wind was blowing), he would
be compelled to pass within a few miles of the steamer, and if the
rain-cloud, under cover of which he hoped to escape, lifted for the
space of one short minute, he was almost certain to be discovered. The
squall came up directly behind the steamer, and in about half an hour
overtook and shut her out from view.

"Now's our time," exclaimed Beardsley. "Flatten in the fore and main
sails and give a strong pull at the headsail sheets. Tierney, go to the
wheel."

Marcy lent a hand, and while the orders were being obeyed was gratified
to hear one of the crew remark that the squall was something more than a
squall; that it was coming to stay, and that they would be lucky if they
saw the end of it by sunrise the next morning. If that proved to be the
case they would have nothing to fear from the s