almost within speaking distance, and Captain Lane made her out to be a
large heavily-sparred clipper brig. A collision seemed inevitable, if
she held her course. The _Ocean Star_ was a little to windward of the
stranger with the starboard tacks aboard, and Captain Lane knew it was
the stranger's duty to "bear up" and keep away. He jumped for his
speaking trumpet and hailed:

"Brig ahoy!"

No answer; and the mysterious vessel came booming right on for them with
fearful speed.

"Brig ahoy!" shouted the captain again. "Hard up your helm, or you will
be into me!"

Still no answer; and, jumping to the wheel, the captain jammed it down,
and they came up flying into the wind. Leaving the wheel to the
frightened seaman, he sprang into the port rail, to see where the
stranger would strike them. As he did so, that mysterious craft flew by,
and the whole sea seemed lighted up by a strange illumination. It was
like a terrible dream--so wild, so supernatural and unearthly. As
Captain Lane stood by the port rail, he saw right under his quarter, a
large, low, black brig, with her decks crowded with men, and guns
protruding from her ports; while on the weather rail, clinging with one
hand to the shrouds, stood a strange, demoniacal-looking figure, holding
in his outstretched hand, above the water, a burning blue light. On the
quarter-deck a little knot of men seemed standing, a short distance
apart from them was a strikingly handsome man, who, from his air of
superiority, Lane at once knew to be the commander. His perfectly poised
and graceful attitude, and thorough composure, as he removed a cigar