“‘A stern chase is a long chase, Calista, darling,’ said my captain, cheerily; but I could see that he was not at all satisfied with the aspect of affairs.
“‘You know that I am not a coward,’ said I; ‘tell me just how it is.’
“‘I know your soul is bigger than your body, my darling,’ said he. ‘This rascally brig gains on us. If we can have foul weather to-night, we may change our course and lose sight of her. I see no other hope. We are not strong enough to fight her.’
“‘There are muskets and pistols in the cabin,’ said I, ‘and we have two cannons on deck.’
“‘Well enough to frighten savages, or beat off the Malay pirates; but that brig is well armed, and must have plenty of men, by the way they handle her. If she is a privateer, we must surrender. If a pirate, we must fight. Her Long Tom will make oven wood of us, but we must take our chance.’
“We held on, praying for night, and storm and darkness. The full moon rode high in the heavens, and silvered the waves through which our good ship ploughed gallantly. Nearer and nearer came our pursuer. Once the wind freshened, and we seemed to gain a slight advantage, but it soon fell off again, and the brig crept nearer and nearer. Few slept. By the full morning light there lay the handsome brig, full over our tafrail, bounding along with a bone in her mouth. My brave husband walked the deck in sore trouble. He had made the best possible preparations for defence, the crew were ready to obey his orders, but the case was hopeless.
“As the light increased, I watched the brig closely through the glass, trying to ascertain the character of our pursuer. A flag of stars and stripes went up to her mast-head, and the smoke of a cannon curled up from her deck. It was the first signal. The commander of the brig was in the field of my glass and my worst fears were dispelled.
“‘Look!’ said I to my husband, giving him the glass; ‘that man is not a pirate.’
“I could not be mistaken. He was a fine-looking man of thirty-five or forty, in an undress naval uniform. His bearing was manly, and his face, when I got a look at it, was clear and open. My captain took the glass, and gave an anxious look.
“‘I believe you are right, my darling,’ said he. ‘The man is no pirate. Then it is war, and we shall soon be his prisoners. It is a hard case, but there is no help for it.’
“‘Do not be cast down, my brave captain,’ said I; ‘father has more ships, and he can deduct this one from my portion.’
“Just then another shot from the long gun came alongside, and showed that we were within point blank range. The order was given to take in sail, and we waited for the brig to come up. As she came on, dashing gallantly through the waves, my captain took his trumpet and hailed her. The hail was courteously responded to. It was a Yankee privateer, demanding our surrender.
“‘Oh! for a tier of guns, and half a chance at him!’ exclaimed my captain; but the disparity of force was too overwhelming. In answer to the question, he gave the name of our good ship and his own.
“Then I, who was watching the deck of the enemy still through the glass, though we were now so near, saw a strange movement. The captain of the brig suddenly put up his glass, which he had turned on my husband. Then he appeared to give some order to his lieutenant who was preparing to board us, and soon sprang into the boat himself, and came on board of us.
“He was received with a not very cheerful politeness, but his manner, as he stepped upon our deck, justified the opinion I had formed of him. He raised his hat to me with a graceful bow; and my husband invited him to enter our cabin, which he did with every courtesy. Wine and other refreshments were brought out in plenty, and the stranger told us of the outbreak of the war with America, and also of other events which were news to us at that time.
“Were we prisoners? Was this our captor, quietly conversing with us, and courteously drinking to our prosperity? He looked at me attentively, when my eyes were turned away, and I thought I saw a strange smile upon his face.
“My husband opened a locker, and taking out the ship’s papers, laid them on the table with a heavy heart; but he would not show it, and said with an air of assumed cheerfulness:
“‘It is the fortune of war. My ship is your prize, captain, and since I must surrender her, I am glad it is to a gentleman. Where do you propose to send us?’
“The stranger moved into the light, brushed back the curls of his dark hair, and turning to my husband, said:
“‘Is it possible, Captain Walter, that you do not know me? Have you forgotten a man whose life you saved, and who owes @you@ so much?’
“My husband looked earnestly at him a moment, then grasped his hand, and said:
“‘Hardy! Frank Hardy! is it really you?’
“‘Yes, old fellow,’ said he, ‘it is really me, with a better memory than you have, who saved my life at the risk of your own. And this is your wife? I congratulate you—I congratulate you both with all my heart. Madam, he took me off a wreck, where every man but me had perished. Thank God! I can show that I am not ungrateful. I shall appoint you prize-master, and you shall take your ship, please God! into her own harbour.’
“‘But can you do this safely, Frank?’ asked my captain.
“‘Safely!’ His lip curled. ‘I would like to see the danger I would not confront for you, old fellow. If I were a naval officer, it would be a different matter, but a privateer has some discretion. My pretty brig is my own. The war is an ugly business, but you know me of old—we are “enemies in war, in peace friends,” all but you, old fellow—I am your friend always, as you know.’
“‘And how will your crew stand the loss of their share of prize-money?’ asked my captain.
