The pennant was again hauled down, but this time it was not left in the cross-trees.

The cockswain took it with him and it was carried on board the English brig, in spite of the denunciation hurled against men-of-war's men, in which the epithets "thieves," "robbers," and "pirates," were distinctly heard.
A few nights after the above-mentioned occurrence we received an unexpected addition to the number of our crew.

It was about an hour after midnight, when the man who had the watch on deck was comfortably seated on a coil of rope beneath the main deck awning, and probably dozing, while sheltered from a heavy and protracted shower of rain.

The night was dark and gloomy; the ebb tide made a moaning, monotonous noise under the bows, and rushed swiftly by the sides of the vessel, leaving a broad wake astern.

The sailor was roused from his comfortable position by a sound resembling the cry of a person in distress.