The sleeping town of Rousseau barely showed us the glimmer of a light, and we passed but one coasting schooner. At 2 A.M., we were off the north end of the island, but now heavy rain-squalls came up, and rendered it so thick, that we were obliged to slow down, and even stop the engine, it being too thick to run. The squall lighting up a little, we endeavoured to feel our way in the dark; mistook the south for the north end of Prince Rupert's Bay, and only discovered our mistake when we had gotten fearfully near the shore, and had whitened our water! Hauled her broad out, and again put her under very slow steam. The weather now lighting up more, we put her under headway again, doubled the island, and shaped our course E. by N. It was now 4:30 A.M., and I went below and turned in. _Deo gratias._ Poor D., the quartermaster, I had to depose him from his high office of night look-out this night. He had been remarked for his keen vision by night; but on this occasion he was so perturbed, that he saw a steamer bearing down upon him from every direction--even magnifying small sloops into frigates. The evening of this day was lovely, and I think I have never seen a more beautiful, sedative, poetic, love-in-a-cottage landscape, than the valleys and hills presented in which lies the town of St. Pierre. All these charms were heightened by the presence of grim-visaged war. Our run took every one by surprise--several of the officers had breakfast and dinner, appointments for several days ahead. My crew seem to be highly delighted at our success in "doing the Yankee;" but I am not sure that an old boatswain's-mate, and a hard, weather-beaten quartermaster, who had shaved their heads for a close fight, were not disappointed that it did not come off.
_Again at sea--Two captures--The Montmorency--The Arcade--Eastward, ho!--The Vigilant taken--News from home--Dirty weather--The whale--Ebenezer Dodge--In irons--A cyclone--The gale rages --Fire!--Christmas day--No luck--The clank of the pumps--Cadiz_.
Once more afloat on the open sea; and at 4 P.M. of Monday November 25th, a promising commencement was made in the capture of the fine ship Montmorency, of 1183 tons, laden with Welsh coal for the English Mail Packet service. And, fortunately so for her, or she would have shared the fate of the Golden Balance, the Daniel Trowbridge, and other "burnt offerings" of the little Sumter. As it was, she paid a light toll in the shape of small supplies of paint, cordage, &c., and entering into a ransom bond for 20,000 dollars, to be paid to the Confederate States Government at the end of the war, her captain and crew were paroled, and she herself permitted to proceed on her voyage.