so that if we had not shoved off with the speed of light, I think it
very likely that we should have been overpowered. However, we reached
the ship in safety, and the day following we weighed, and stood out to
sea with our convoy.

It was a very large fleet, nearly three hundred sail of merchant
vessels--and a noble sight truly.

A line-of-battle ship led, and two frigates and three sloops of our
class were stationed on the outskirts of the fleet, whipping them in,
as it were. We made Madeira in fourteen days, looked in, but did not
anchor; superb island--magnificent mountains--white town,--and all very
fine, but nothing particular happened for three weeks. One fine
evening (we had by this time progressed into the trades, and were
within three hundred miles of Barbadoes) the sun had set bright and
clear, after a most beautiful day, and we were bowling along right
before it, rolling like the very devil; but there was no moon, and
although the stars sparkled brilliantly, yet it was dark, and as we
were the sternmost of the men-of-war, we had the task of whipping in
the sluggards. It was my watch on deck. A gun from the commodore, who
showed a number of lights. "What is that, Mr. Kennedy?" said the
captain to the old gunner. "The commodore has made the night-signal
for the sternmost ships to make more sail and close, sir." We repeated
the signal and stood on, hailing the dullest of the merchantmen in our
neighbourhood to make more sail, and firing a musket-shot now and then
over the more distant of them. By-and-by we saw a large West Indiamen
suddenly haul her wind and stand across our bows.

"Forward there!" sung out Mr. Splinter; "stand by to fire a shot at
that fellow from the boat gun if he does not bear up. What can he be