diminished, if not altogether lost. He might, possibly, by
making more sail, get away from the speronara; but that he doubted, and
the brig was already under as much canvas, as on ordinary occasions, it
was considered prudent to carry at night. He remembered that he was not
on board a man-of-war, when sail could be shortened, without calling the
watch below. Yet sail must be made, as it would never do to have that
little speronara buzzing about them all night without being allowed to
punish her, or trying to get away from her.

"We must see if we can't walk away from that fellow, Mr Timmins. Turn
the hands up," he at length exclaimed, after taking a turn on the poop.
"Set the royals. Get the fore topmast, and lower studding-sails on
her."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate, going somewhat slowly to obey the
order. "Little good I'm afraid it will do us, though."

The crew, though expecting to be roused up, for the watch on deck had
let those below know of the reappearance of the suspicious stranger,
went about their duty without their usual alacrity.

"One might just as well try to run clear of a hurricane as to beat that
chap out there either on wind or off it," muttered Jem Marlin, as he
went aloft to rig out the studding-sail booms. "All the canvas in store
in Portsmouth Dockyard wouldn't carry us away from him, if he wanted to
catch us."

The additional sail, however, was set, and as the wind had fallen light,
it was only what was required to urge her at her previous speed through
the water. While sail was being made the master was joined on the poop
by his passengers.

"Well," said the colonel, laughing. "I hear we have the honour of the
company of the _Flying Dutchman_ again."

"Dutchman or not, sir," replied the master, "that little speronara has
taken it into her head to dodge us; and, shame on the brig, which ought
to do better, she seems likely to come up with us."

"Well let her--we are a match for her, I should think; and my little
girl here seems rather anxious for a brush. She puts to shame that
steward of yours, who came skulking into the cabin just now as white as
a sheet, declaring we were going to be boarded by ghosts or hobgoblins
of some sort."

"You must humour seamen, or you can never manage them, sir," replied the
master. "They as firmly believe in the _Flying Dutchman_ as they do in
the Gospel; and you can't persuade them that he is not to be met with.
It would never do for me