1.The breeze had now freshened nearly to a gale，and the distance between us and the brig was rapidly decreasing，for most of his sails were in shreds.The guns were reloaded，and orders given to depress them as much as possible-that is，to point their muzzles downwards-but that not a shot was to be fired till the frigate came actually alongside of the chase.We were resolved to make him surrender，or to run him down；such was our duty，and that the Frenchman knew right well.Hewaited，however，until our jib-boomwas almost overhis taffrail，and not till then，when he must have seeninto our ports and along the decks，which were lighted up fore and aft，did he give the signal of surrender.
2.It may be supposed that the chase was now completely over，and that we had nothing further to do than to take possession of our prize.Not at all！It was found impossible to board the brig，or at least it seemed so dangerous that our captain was unwilling to hazard a boat and crew till daylight came.The gale increasedbefore morning to such a pitch that there was a doubt if any boat could live，and the intention of boarding our prize was of course further delayed.But we took care to keep close to him，a little to windward，in order to watch his proceedings as narrowly as possible.It did not escape our notice in the meantime that our friend went on quietly，even in the height of the gale，shiftinghis wounded yards，reevingfresh sails.
3.About three o’clock in the afternoon a furious squall of wind and rain came on，and the brig suddenly bore up and set off once more right before the wind.At the height of the squall we totally lost sight of our prize；and such a hubbub I hardly recollect to have heard in my life before.
“Where is she？Who was looking out？Where did you see her last？”and a hundred similar questions were poured out in abundance.Sail was made at once，and off we dashed into the thick of the squall in search of our lost treasure.
4.For about a quarter of an hour a dead silence reigned over the whole ship，and every eye was strained to the utmost，for no one knew exactly where to look.There was，indeed，no certainty of our not actuallyrunning past the privateer，and it would not have surprised us much when the squall cleared up had we seen him a mile or two to windward，far beyond our reach.These fears were put an end to by the sharp-eyed captain of the foretop，who had perched himself on the jib-boom end，calling out with a voice of the greatest glee，-“There he goes！there he goes！right ahead！under histopsails and foresail！”
5.Sure enough there we saw him，springing along from wave to wave，his masts bending like reeds under the pressure of the sails.In a very few minutes we were again alongside of him.Nothing daunted，however，by the style in which we bore down upon him，the gallant commander of this pretty little egg-shell of a vesselplaced himself on the weather-quarter，and with aspeaking-trumpet in his hand，indicated a wish to be heard.
6.“I have been compelled to bear up，”he called out in French；“otherwise the brig must have gone to the bottom.The sea broke over us in such a way that I have been obliged，as you may perceive，to throw all my guns，boats，and spars overboard.We have now severalfeet of water in the hold in consequence of your shot.
If，therefore，you oblige me to heave to，I cannot keepthe vessel afloat one hour in such weather.”
7.“Will you make no further attempt to escape？”asked the captain of the Endymion .
“As yet I have made none，”he replied firmly.“I am your prize；and，as a man of honour，I do not consider myself at liberty to escape even if I had the power.I bore up when the squall came on，as a matter of necessity.If you will allow me to run before the wind along with you till the weather moderates，you may take possession of the brig when you please；if not，I must go to the bottom.”
8.At eight o‘clock in the evening it began to moderate，and by midnight we succeeded in getting a boat on board of the prize，after a run of between three and four hundred miles.Such is the scale of nautical sport！The brig proved to be the Milan.privateer from St.Malo，of fourteen guns and eighty men，many of whom were unfortunately wounded and several killed by our shot.In the morning we stopped the leaks，exchanged the prisoners for a prize crew，and put our heads towards the Cove of Cork again，and we returned right merrily to tell our long story of the three days’chase.Thecaptain‘s name was M.Pierre Lepelletier of St.Malo；and wherever he goes，I will venture to say he can meet no braver or more resolute man than himself.
