The Dornoch was not more than two miles distant from the Chateaugay, for
in the early morning hours the course had been changed a couple of
points, to bring her nearer for examination. It was now a chase, and the
chief engineer was instructed to give the ship her best speed. It was
soon evident that the Dornoch was hurrying her pace, for her
smoke-stacks were vomiting forth immense inky clouds.
"I doubt if Captain Rombold cares to fight with my uncle on board," said
Christy. "He can see that the Chateaugay is of heavier metal than the
Dornoch."
"I should suppose that it would be his first care, as perhaps he regards
it as his first duty, to put his passenger on board of a steamer bound
to England," added the commander. "It appears to be a question of speed
just now."
The Chateaugay was driven to her utmost, and it was soon clear that she
was too much for her antagonist. At two bells in the forenoon watch she
was about a mile abreast of the chase, which had not yet shown her
colors. The flag of the United States floated at the peak, and the
commander ordered a shot to be fired across the forefoot of the Dornoch.
This was an order for her to come to; but, instead of doing so, she
flung out the Confederate flag, and fired a shotted gun, the ball from
which whizzed over the heads of the Chateaugay's officers on the
quarter-deck.
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