have
more chance of escaping notice if we come near any of those Moorish craft.
Besides, if the sea were really rough it would be difficult for them to
board us even if they did come up with us."

"You are right, sir; still, for myself, I should prefer a strong southerly
wind and a clear sky."

"Well, I am afraid you will not get your wish, for the clouds certainly
seem to be banking up from the north, and we'll get a change of wind ere
long."

By night the wind was blowing fiercely and the sea rapidly rising. The
sails were closely reefed, and even then they felt with pleasure that the
little craft was making good way. The wind increased during the night, and
was blowing a gale by morning. Just at twelve o'clock a craft was seen
approaching which all were convinced was an Algerine. She changed her
course at once and bore down upon them, firing a gun as a signal for them
to stop.

"She is rather faster than we are," Dimchurch said, "but we'll lead her a
good dance before she gets hold of us. She could not work her guns in this
sea, and if she is the faster, at least we are the handier."

For three hours the chase continued. Again and again the Algerine came up
on them, but each time the little boat, turning almost on her heel, so
cleverly was she handled, glided away from underneath the enemy's bows.
Each time, when they saw the chase slipping away from them, the angry
Moors sent a volley of musketry after her, but the fugitives took refuge
in the cabin, or lay down on the deck close under the bulwarks, and so
escaped.

Soon the Moors were so intent on the chase that they began to take great
risks with their own vessel. In fact, they became positively reckless. For
this they paid very heavily. After many disappointments they felt that the
fugitives were at last in their clutches, and were preparing to board her
when suddenly Dimchurch put down his helm sharply. He nearly capsized the
little craft, and indeed they would rather have gone down with her than
fall into the hands of the Moors again, but she righted immediately, and
once more skimmed away from her pursuers. In the excitement of the moment
the Moorish steersman attempted the same manoeuvre. If he had succeeded he
would probably have run down the cockle-shell that had baffled him so
long. But at that moment a violent squall struck his ship with its full
force, and her mainmast snapped a few feet above the deck. The three
fugitives jumped to their feet and