The day, too, was wearing on, and the sky beginning to cloud
over, giving every token of a dark if not a stormy night. If the chase
could only hold on her course till dusk she was safe, and already the
hopes of another prize were beginning to fade, and the anxious
speculators on the forecastle were expecting the order to up helm and
relinquish the chase.
On the quarter-deck, too, the idea was gaining ground that the affair
was hopeless, and that it was not worth while to keep the ship longer
from her course. But the Alabama was not given to letting a chance slip,
and before finally abandoning the pursuit it was determined to try the
effect of a shot or two upon the nerves of the stranger. A slight cheer,
quickly checked by the voice of authority, rose from the eager crowd on
the forecastle, as the weather bow gun was cast loose and loaded, and in
another minute the bright flash, with its accompanying jet of white
smoke, leaped from the cruiser's bow, as the loud report of a 32 pounder
rang out the command to heave to.
A moment of breathless suspense, and another cheer rose from the
delighted throng of sailors, as the stranger's sails were seen for a
moment to shiver in the wind, and the frightened chase luffed to the
wind, and then lay motionless with the Stars and Stripes at her
mizenpeak. Another sharp hour's beating and the Alabama was alongside,
and had taken possession of the United States schooner Crenshaw, from
New York to Glasgow, three days out.
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