At length, about 3:30 in the afternoon, the captain’s gig was seen approaching the ship, the side was manned, and in a few minutes more Captain Hood stood upon his own quarter-deck.

“You may—ah—run my gig up to the davits, if you please, Mr Annesley,” said he, “and then we will—aw—weigh at once if—ah—you have everything ready.”

“Quite ready, sir,” replied the first luff, turning away to give the necessary orders. The gig was hoisted up and secured, the hands were sent aloft to loose the canvas, the topsails were sheeted home and mast-headed, the jib run up, and, simultaneously with this, the capstan-bars were shipped, one of the ship’s boys mounted the capstan-head violin in hand, and to a merry air upon that instrument out stepped the men, the anchor was quickly run up to the bows, and with the last drain of the flood-tide the “Juno,” under topsails and jib, with a light north-easterly air of wind, glided with a slow and stately movement out of the harbour, squaring away directly down through the Solent as soon as we had cleared the anchorage at Spithead, instead of going out round the island to the eastward, as was at that time usual with men-o’-war. This circumstance, trifling as it was, had a very exhilarating effect upon all hands, as it seemed to foreshadow that our skipper, notwithstanding his somewhat affected manner, had a habit of taking the shortest and most direct road when he had an object to achieve.

There were several ships lying at Spithead as we passed through, and it was observed that one of them—the “Boston,” a frigate of about our own size—was just getting under way, her destination being the east coast of North America. Her skipper, Captain Courtenay, and ours were, it appeared, old friends, and having met that day at the Admirals’ office, there had been a little good-natured banter between them as to the comparative sailing powers of the two ships, each being of course of opinion that his own ship could beat the other; and it had been finally arranged that, as both frigates were to sail that day, there should be a friendly race down Channel, the stake being the time-honoured one—a new hat. Accordingly, as soon as we had room, the “Juno” was rounded-to with the main-topsail to the mast, to wait until the other ship should join us.

We were not detained very long. Hardly were we hove-to when the “Boston” was seen threading her way out through the fleet, and in a few minutes more she was close abreast of us, the “Juno” bearing up at the moment which would bring the bows of the two ships exactly level. Captain Courtenay appeared at 

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