after hour Murray gallantly stood to the helm, the little schooner
dashing through the foaming seas, for he judged it better to keep her on
her course than to heave her to. Terrifically the thunder rolled.
Crash succeeded crash almost without cessation, while the lightning
darted from the sky and played with even more fearful vividness round
the little vessel than on the former night. Still Murray undaunted
stood at his post with perfect calmness. Though he scarcely expected to
escape, it was not the calmness of despair or stoicism, but that which
the most perfect trust in God's mercy and all-just government of human
affairs can alone give. "If He thinks fit to call me hence, His will be
done," he repeated to himself over and over again during that dreadful
night. Several times Adair, anxious for his safety, lifted a little
scuttle which had been contrived in the skylight, and inquired how he
got on, and at times wondered at the fearless tone in which he replied.
Still the danger of foundering was to be feared, for, what with the
torrents of rain from the skies, and the opening leaks, the little
vessel was rapidly filling with water. Dawn was at length breaking and
the wind was decreasing, when, as Murray looked around, he thought he
saw a vessel to windward bearing down upon them. Just at that instant a
cry arose from below that the schooner was sinking, and Adair and the
crew leaped on deck. The pump was instantly rigged, and they worked
away at it with a will. Still the water appeared to be gaining on them.
On came the stranger. She was a large and fine schooner. As the wind
had decreased she was making sail; rapidly she neared them. There could
be little doubt from her appearance that she was a slaver. To offer any
resistance, should she wish to capture them, would be out of the
question. Their hearts sank within them. Just then the glitter of some
gold-lace on the cap of an officer standing on the schooner's poop
caught Adair's eye. He seized his telescope, and directly afterwards a
cheer came down to them, as the schooner, shooting up into the wind,
prepared to heave-to. "Huzza! huzza!" exclaimed Adair. "It's all
right!--there can be no doubt of it!--There's Jack Rogers himself."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

SLAVE-HUNTING.

The big schooner and the _Venus_ were soon hove-to, and while the two
vessels were bowing and bobbing away at each other, a boat was lowered
from the quarter of the former, which