"A small schooner lying to right ahead, sir," sang out the boatswain
from the forecastle.
Before we could beat to quarters, another sang between our masts. We
kept steadily on our course, and as we approached our pigmy antagonist,
he bore up. Presently we were alongside of him.
"Heave to," hailed the strange sail; "heave to, or I'll sink you." The
devil you will, you midge, thought I.
The captain took the trumpet--"Schooner, ahoy"--no answer--"D--n your
blood, sir, if you don't let everything go by the run this instant,
I'll fire a broadside. Strike, sir, to his Britannic Majesty's sloop
_Torch_."
The poor fellow commanding the schooner had by this time found out his
mistake, and immediately came on board, where, instead of being lauded
for his gallantry, I am sorry to say he was roundly rated for his want
of discernment in mistaking his Majesty's cruiser for a Yankee
merchantman. Next forenoon we arrived at Nassau.
In a week after we again sailed for Bermuda, having taken on board ten
American skippers, and several other Yankees, as prisoners of war.
For the first three days after we cleared the Passages, we had fine
weather--wind at east-south-east; but after that it came on to blow
from the north-west, and so continued without intermission during the
whole of the passage to Bermuda.
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