"Another ten minutes, and we shall have our share." The time seemed long, indeed, before the dark line on the water reached the lugger, and there was something like a cheer, from the crew, as the craft heeled slightly over, and then began to move through the water.
It was the true breeze this time, and increased every moment in force, till the lugger was lying well over, with a white wave at her bow.
But the cutter had first gained by the freshening breeze, and James Walsham, looking back at her, judged that there were not more than four miles of water between the boats.

The breeze was nearly due west, and, as the lugger was headed as close as she would lie to it, the cutter had hauled in her sheets and lay up on the same course, so that they were now sailing almost parallel to each other.
"If we could change places," the skipper said, "we should be safe.

We can sail nearer the wind than she can, but she can edge away now, and has all the advantage of us." James had already perceived this, and wondered that the lugger did not pay off before the wind, so as to make a stern chase of it.
"I want to get a few miles farther out," the skipper said.

"Likely enough there is another cutter somewhere inshore.

It is quite enough to have one of these fellows at one's heels." Another half hour and the cutter, edging in, was little over three miles distant.