med up on a wind. I
expect every moment to find her sheering off to the westward, and
gradually getting us in _her_ wake _on_ a wind. I fear we should find
that worse work than even this, sir."

"I would not lose her now, for a thousand pounds! I do not see what the
d--l Dashwood was about, that he did not secure her when he got
possession of the rocks. I shall rattle him down a little, as soon as
we meet."

Cuffe would have been shocked had he known that the body of Sir
Frederick Dashwood was, just as that moment, going through the
melancholy process of being carried on board a two-decker, up at Naples,
the captain of which was his kinsman. But he did not know it, nor did he
learn his death for more than a week; or after the body had
been interred.

"Take the glass, Yelverton, and look at her. To me she grows very
dim--she must be leaving us fast. Be careful to note if there are any
signs of an intention to sheer to the westward."

"That can hardly be done without jibing her forward lug--hang me,
Captain Cuffe, if I can see her at all. Ah! here she is, dead ahead as
before, but as dim as a ghost. I can barely make out her canvas--she is
still wing-and-wing, d--n her, looking more like the spectre of a craft
than a real thing. I lost her in that yaw, sir--I wish you would try,
Captain Cuffe--do my best, I cannot find her again."

Cuffe did try, but without success. Once, indeed, he fancied he saw her,
but further examination satisfied him it was a mistake. So long had he
been gazing at the same object, that it was easy for the illusion to
pass before his mind's eye, of imagining a dim outline of the little
lugger flying away, like the scud of the heavens, wing-and-wing, ever
seeming to elude his observation. That night he dreamed of her, and
there were haply five minutes during which his wandering thoughts
actually portrayed the process of taking possession, and of manning
the prize.

Previously to this, however, signals were made to the other ships,
ordering them to alter their courses, with a view to meet anticipated
changes in that of le Feu-Follet. Lyon was sent to the westward, the
Terpsichore a little easterly, while the Proserpine herself ventured so
far as to steer southwest, after two o'clock. But a sudden and violent
shift of wind came an hour before day. It was the expected--nay, the
announced--sirocco, and it brought the lugger to windward beyond all
dispute. The south breeze came strong from the fir