Commodore Junk — page 200: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

NEWS AT LAST. 193 The night wore on, with every one on the gut vive. Two more boats were ready waiting to push off and help in the attack on whichever side the schooner should attempt to escape; while, in the event of an attack, the other patrolling boat was to come back to the sloop. But hour after hour passed and no rushing of water was heard, no dip of long sweep, or creak of the great oar in the rowlock was heard ; neither was a light seen ; and the silence observed by the schooner was so profound that Humphrey, as he paced the deck, felt certain at last that she must have escaped ; and, now that it was too late, he bitterly repented not attempting to capture the dangerous foe by a bold attack, “She’s gone,” he groaned, “and I’ve lost my chance!” He paced the deck in bitter disappointment, as he felt that he had let a prize slip through his fingers; and, as he waited, the night glided slowly by, till, slowly and tardily, the first signs of day appeared, and with a cry of joy Humphrey Armstrong ordered the signal of recall to be run up, for there, just as she had been last seen when night fell, lay the long, dark schooner, but without a man visible on board. In a few minutes the two boats were alongside, and Humphrey gazed longingly at the prize he felt ready to give half his life to reach. What should he do? Attempt to board her now that his four boats lay armed and ready for the fray ? The temptation was too great, and the order was given: the four boats to attack at once, the men receiving the command with a tremendous cheer, and their oars took the water at once ; while, compelled by his position to remain on board, the captain feverishly watched the progress of his boats in the growing light, and frowned and stamped the deck in his anger as he saw the crews were exhausting themselves in a race to M Gomicbooks