"
James had already perceived this, and wondered that the lugger did not
pay off before the wind, so as to make a stern chase of it.
"I want to get a few miles farther out," the skipper said. "Likely
enough there is another cutter somewhere inshore. It is quite enough to
have one of these fellows at one's heels."
Another half hour and the cutter, edging in, was little over three
miles distant. Then the skipper gave the word, the helm was put down,
the sheets slackened off, and, in a minute, the lugger was running dead
before the wind with her sails boomed out, one on either side. The
cutter followed her example, and hoisted a large square sail.
The wind was blowing fresh now, and the sea was getting up. Not a cloud
was to be seen in the sky, and the sun shone brightly on the white
heads which were beginning to show on the water. The lugger was tearing
along, occasionally throwing a cloud of spray over her bows, and
leaving a track of white water behind her.
"I think she still gains on us," the captain said to the mate, who had
taken the helm.
"Ay, she is gaining," the sailor agreed, "but the wind is freshening
every minute. She can't carry that topsail much longer. It's pressing
her bows under now.
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