e again, while the Mellish crept along, all
too slowly for the eager anxiety of her crew, toward the mouth of the
channel, of which most of them, however, knew nothing. The frigate,
partly because in order to bring a gun to bear on the chase it would
have to luff up into the wind and thus lose valuable distance, and also
because the rapidity with which the Mellish was being overhauled
rendered it unnecessary, had hitherto refrained from using its
batteries. The chances of escape under the present conditions were
about even, had it not been for the complication introduced by the
presence of Katharine and her father upon the frigate.

Seymour was in a painful and frightful state of indecision. What
should he do? The dilemma forced upon him was one of those which
Katharine had foreseen, and of which they had talked together. He,
apparently, must decide between his love and his country. If he held
on when he reached the mouth of the channel and passed it by, the
capture of the ship was absolutely inevitable. If he went through the
channel and enticed the English ship after him, the death of his
sweetheart was likewise apparently inevitable.

Chasing with the determination shown by the English captain, who had
his topgallantsails still set, and with the little warning he would
have of the existence of the shoal, owing to the rapid closing of the
day, the frigate would have to attempt the channel, and in that way for
that ship lay destruction.

Save Katharine-- Lose the ship. Save the ship-- Lose Katharine.
Love or Duty--which should it be? The man was attacked in the two most
powerful sources of human action. He saw on one side Katharine tossed
about by the merciless waves, white-faced with terror, and stretching
out her hands to him in piteous appeal from that angry sea in the
horror of darkness and death. And every voice which spoke to the human
heart was eloquent of her. And then on the other side there stood
those grim and frozen ranks, those gaunt, hungry, naked men. They too
stretched out hands to him. "Give us arms, give us raiment," they
seemed to say. "You had the opportunity and you threw it away for
love. What's love--to liberty?"

And every incentive which awakens the soul of honor in men appealed to
him then. Behind him stood the destinies of a great people, the fate
of a great cause; on him they trusted, upon his honor they had
depended, and before him stood one woman. He saw her again a