"All hands work ship," called the boatswain, and Lieutenant Kell, seizing his trumpet, directed the furling of sails and the lowering of the propeller. The firemen worked like beavers, and in twenty minutes a sailing vessel had been transformed into a steamer. At a distance of three or four miles the United States flag was run up, and the stranger responded with the same ensign. The rapidity with which the latter approached showed that she was swift, but it was soon ascertained that she carried no guns. The Alabama ran down across her path as if to speak her, but the stranger kept away a little and swept by within a stone's throw. The great packet-steamer had all her awnings set, and under these was a crowd of passengers of both sexes. Groups of soldiers were also seen and several officers in uniform. Many passengers with opera glasses could be seen curiously studying the construction and appointments of the false Union war ship. As the Alabama passed the wake of the packet, she wheeled in pursuit, ran up the Confederate flag, and fired a blank cartridge. Instantly the state of amused curiosity on the stranger's deck gave way to panic. Ladies ran screaming below, and male passengers were by no means slow in keeping them company. Great clouds of black smoke poured from the smoke stacks of the fleeing monster, and her huge walking beam responded still more rapidly to the strain of her engines. A run of less than a mile convinced Captain Semmes that the stranger had the speed of him, and that if he wished to capture her he must resort to heroic measures. The "Persuader," was cleared away. The Alabama was yawed a little to enable the gunner to take accurate aim, and a hundred-pound shell splintered the foremast of the fugitive ten feet above the deck. Her master declined to expose his passengers to a second shot, and the stranger's engines were stopped, and she soon lay motionless awaiting the approach of her captor.
The prize proved to be the California mail-steamer Ariel, Captain Jones, bound to the Isthmus of Panama with five hundred and thirty-two passengers, mostly women and children, on board, a battallion of one hundred and forty-five United States marines, and a number of naval officers, including Commander Sartori, who was on his way to the Pacific to take command of the United States sailing sloop St. Marys. The boarding officer reported great consternation among the passengers. Many of them were hastily secreting articles of value, and the ladies were inclined to hysterics, not knowing to what indignities they might be subjected by the "pirates." At this juncture Lieutenant Armstrong was ordered to take the captain's gig and a boat's crew rigged out in white duck, and proceed on board arrayed in his best uniform and brightest smile, and endeavor to restore a feeling of security. The young lieutenant found the most serious obstacle to the success of his mission in the person of the commander of the marines, who strenuously objected to having his men considered as prisoners of war and put on parole. But the lieutenant had a clinching argument in the muzzles of the Alabama's guns, then distant but a few yards, and the marines finally stacked their arms and took the oath not to bear arms against the Confederacy until exchanged. $8,000 in United States treasury notes and $1,500 in silver were found in the safe, which Captain Jones admitted to be the property of the vessel's owner, and this was turned over to Captain Semmes. The boats' crews behaved very well, and none of the personal effects of the prisoners were seized.