The Portland Sketch Book. Various

heavens! the little witch still holds her way with us!—Have the skysail set, and rig out the top-gallant-studd'n'sail!"

      Every one on board was now eager in the chase. The orders were obeyed almost as soon as given. Our proud vessel, under the press of sail, absolutely flew over the water, haughtily tossing the rampant surges from her sides, while her bows were buried in a roaring and swirling sheet of foam, and a broad band of snow stretched far over the dark blue waste astern, showing a wake as strait as an arrow. She was careened down to the breeze, so that her lower studd'n'sail-boom every moment dashed a cloud of spray from the romping billows, and her lee rail was at times under water. Her masts curved and whiffled beneath the immense piles of canvas, like a stringed bow.

      "She walks the waters bravely," said the captain, casting a glance of exultation at the distended sails and bending spars, and then at our arrowy wake.—"But, by Jupiter, the chase still almost holds her way with us. We need more sail aft. Bear a hand, my men, and run up the ringtail."

      "That will answer,—a dolphin would have a sweat to beat us in this trim!"

      "Well, Mr Percy, is yonder dasher the craft that pillaged your ship, and sent you cruising about the ocean in that bit of a cockle-shell, think you?"

      "That is the pirate schooner—I cannot mistake her," replied Percy, who stood with his flashing eyes rivetted on the vessel, and his fingers impatiently working about the hilt of his cutlass, while his brow was darkened with an intense desire of revenge.

      Three hours passed, and we had gained within a league of the noble looking craft. She was heeled down to the breeze, so that owing to the 'bagging' of her lower sails, her hull was almost hidden from sight. Like a snowy cloud, she darted along the revelling waters, the sunbeams basking on her wide-spread wings, and the sprightly billows flashing and surging around her bows. Never saw I an object more beautiful.

      The land was now fully in sight—a stern and rock-bound coast, against which the breakers dashed with maddening violence, and for half a mile from the shore, the water was one conflicting waste of snowy surf and billow. No signs of inhabitants, on either hand, as far as the eye could view, were discernible. The long range of stern, solitary mountains arose from the waves, and towered away till lost in the clouds. Their sides, save where some splintered cliff lifted its gray peaks in the day, were clothed with thick forests, among which the tufted palm and wild cinnamon stood up conspicuously, like sentinels looking afar over the wide waste of blue. Here and there a torrent could be traced, leaping from crag to cliff, seeming, as it blazed in the fierce sun-light, to run liquid fire; and gorgeous masses of wild creepers and tangled undergrowth hung down over the embattled heights, swaying and flaunting in the gale, like the banners and streamers of an encamped army.

      Not the slightest chance for harbor or anchorage could be discovered along the whole iron-bound coast, yet the gallant little Sea-sprite held steadily on her course, steering broad for the base of the mountains.

      "Why, in the name of madness, is the fellow driving in among the breakers?" muttered our captain;—"Thinks he to escape by running into danger? By Mars, and if I mistake not, he shall have peril to his heart's content, ere nightfall!"

      But fate willed that we should be disappointed; for just as every thing had been arranged to treat the bucaneer with a fist full of grape and canister, one of those sudden tempests, so common to the West Indies in the autumn months, was upon us. A vast, black, conglomerated volume of vapor swung against the mountain summits, and curled heavily down over the cliffs. Brilliant scintillations were darting from its shadowy borders, and the zigzag lightnings were playing about it, and licking its ragged folds like the tongues of an evil spirit! Suddenly it burst asunder, and a burning gleam—a wide conflagration, as if the very earth had exploded—flashed over the hills, accompanied with a peal of thunder that made the broad ocean tremble, and our deck quiver under us, like a harpooned grampus in his death gasp! The electric fluid upheaved and hurled to fragments an immense peak near the summit of the mountains, and huge masses of rock, with thunderous din, and amid clouds of dust, smoke and fire, came bounding and racing down from crag to crag, uprooting the tall cedars, and dashing to splinters the firm iron-wood trees, as though they had been but reeds—sweeping a wide path of ruin through the thick forests, and shivering to atoms and dust the loose rocks that obstructed their career, till, with a whirring bound, they plunged from a beetling cliff into the sea, causing the tortured water to send up a cloud of mist and spray. All on board were struck aghast at the blinding brilliancy of the flash and its terrible effects.

      We were aroused to a sense of our situation, by the clear, sonorous voice of Satan West, whom nothing pertaining to earth could daunt, calling all hands to take in sail.

      Instantly the trade-wind ceased, and a fearful, death-like silence ensued. This was of short duration; hardly were our sails stowed close, when we saw the trees on shore drawn upwards, twisted off and rent to pieces, while a dense mass of leaves and broken branches whirled over the land; and a wild, deep, wailing sound, as of rushing wings, filled the air, foretelling the onset of the whirlwind.

      "The hurricane is upon us!—helm hard aweather!" thundered the captain.

      But the Dart was already lying on her beam-ends, heaving, groaning and quivering throughout every timber, in the fierce embrace of the tremendous blast! After its first overpowering shock, however, the gallant craft slowly recovered, and by dint of the strenuous exertions of our men, she was got before the gale. Away she sprang, like a frighted thing, over the tormented and whitening surges, completely shrouded in foam and spray. A dense cloud, murky as midnight, spread over the face of the heavens, where a moment before, naught met the gazer's eye, save the fleecy mackerel-clouds, drifting afar through its cerulean halls. The blue lightnings gleamed, the thunder boomed and rattled, the black billows shook their flashing manes, the whole firmament was in an uproar; and amid the wild rout, our little Dart, as a dry leaf in the autumn winds, was borne about, a very plaything in the eddying whirls of the frantic elements.

      The tempest was as short lived as it was sudden, and, as the schooner had sustained no material injury, directly after it had abated she was under sail again. When the rain cleared up in shore, every eye sought eagerly for the pirate craft.

      She had vanished!

      Nothing met our view but the tossing and tumbling surges, and the breaker-beaten coast. If ever old Satan West was taken aback, it was then. His brow darkened, and a shadow of unutterable disappointment passed over his countenance.

      "Gone!—By all that is mysterious and wonderful—gone!" he muttered to himself,—"escaped from my very grasp! Can there be truth in the wild tales told of her? No, no!—idiot to harbor the thought for a moment—she has foundered!"

      But this was hardly probable, as not the slightest vestige of her remained about the spot.

      Poor Percy, too, was the picture of despair. His hat had been blown away by the hurricane; and his hair tossed rudely in the wind, as he stood in the main-chains, gazing with the wildness of a maniac over the uproarous waters.

      "The lovers of the marvelous would here find enough to fatten upon, I ween," said Dacres, composedly helping himself to a quid of tobacco. "What think you is to come next? for I hardly think the play ends with actors and all being spirited away in a thunder gust!"

      I was interrupted in my reply by the energetic exclamations of the captain, who had been gazing seaward, over the quarter-rail.

      "Yes, by all the imps in purgatory, it is that devil-leagued pirate," burst from his lips; and at the same moment the cry of Sail O! was heard from the forward watch.

      A long-sparred vessel could be seen, relieved against the black bank of clouds, that were crowding down the horizon. Surprise was imaged on every countenance, and when the order was passed to crowd on all sail in pursuit, a murmur of disapprobation ran through the whole crew. However, such was their respect for the regulations of the service, and so great their dread of old Satan West, that no one dared demur openly. Again the Dart was bounding over the waves in pursuit of the stranger, which had confirmed our suspicions as to her character, by hoisting all sail and endeavoring to escape us.

      But