"Is that the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond?" demanded the skipper, boldly.

"Ay, ay," answered Roswell Gardiner, in the sententious manner of a seaman.

"Is there one Watson, of Martha's Vineyard, shipped in that craft?"

"He was aboard here for a week, but left us suddenly. As he did not sign articles, I cannot say that he run."

"He changed his mind, then," returned the other, as one expresses a slight degree of surprise at hearing that which was new to him. "Watson is apt to whiffle about, though a prime fellow, if you can once fasten to him, and get him into blue water. Does your schooner go out to-morrow, Captain Gar'ner?"

"Not till next day, I think," said Roswell Gardiner, with the frankness of his nature, utterly free from the slightest suspicion that he was communicating with one in the interests of rivals. "My mates have not yet joined me, and I am short of my complement by two good hands. Had that fellow Watson stuck by me, I would have given him a look at water that no lead ever sounded."

"Ay, ay; he's a whiffler, but a good man on a sea-elephant. Then you think you'll sail day a'ter to-morrow?"

"If my mates come over from the main. They wrote me yesterday that they had got the hands, and were then on the look-out for something to get across in. I've come out here to be ready for them, and to pick 'em up, that they needn't go all the way up to the Harbour."

"That's a good traverse, and will save a long pull. Perhaps they are in that boat."

At this allusion to a boat, Roswell Gardiner sprang into his main rigging, and saw, sure enough, that a boat was pulling directly towards the schooner, coming from the main, and distant only a short half mile. A glass was handed to him, and he was soon heard announcing cheerfully to his men, that "Mr. Hazard and the second officer were in the boat, with two seamen," and that he supposed they should now have their complement. All this was overheard by the skipper of the sloop, who caught each syllable with the most eager attention.

"You'll soon be travelling south, I'm thinking, Captain Gar'ner?" called out this worthy, again, in a sort of felicitating way—"Them's your chaps, and they'll set you up."

"I hope so, with all my heart, for there is nothing more tiresome than waiting when one is all ready to trip. My owner is getting to be impatient too, and wants to see some skins in return for his dollars."

"Ay, ay, them's your chaps, and you'll be off the day a'ter to-morrow, at the latest. Well, a good time to you, Captain Gar'ner, and a plenty of skinning. It's a long road to travel, especially when a craft has to go as far south as your's is bound!"

"How do you know, friend, whither I am bound? You have not asked me for my sealing ground, nor is it usual, in our business, to be hawking it up and down the country."

"All that is true enough, but I've a notion, notwithstanding. Now, as you'll be off so soon, and as I shall not see you again, for some time at least, I will give you a piece of advice. If you fall in with a consort, don't fall out with her, and make a distant v'y'ge a cruise for an enemy, but come to tarms, and work in company: lay for lay; and make fair weather of what can't be helped."

The men on board the sloop laughed at this speech, while those on board the schooner wondered. To Roswell Gardiner and his people the allusions were an enigma, and the former muttered something about the stranger's being a dunce, as he descended from the rigging, and gave some orders to prepare to receive the boat.

"The chap belongs to the Hole," rejoined the master of the schooner, "and all them Vineyard fellows fancy themselves better blue-jackets than the rest of mankind: I suppose it must be because their island lies further out to sea than anything we have here inside of Montauk."

Thus ended the communications with the stranger. The sloop glided away before a light south wind, and, favoured by an ebb tide, soon rounded the spit of sand that shelters the anchorage; and, hauling up to the eastward, she went on her way towards Holmes' Hole. The skipper was a relative of half of those who were interested in fitting out the rival Sea Lion, and had volunteered to obtain the very information he took with him, knowing how acceptable it would be to those at home. Sooth to say, a deep but wary excitement prevailed on the Vineyard, touching not only the sealing-islands, but also in respect to the buried treasure. The information actually possessed by the relations of the deceased mariner was neither very full nor very clear. It consisted principally of sayings of Daggett, uttered during his homeward-bound passage, and transmitted by the master of the brig to him of the sloop in the course of conferences that wore away a long summer's afternoon, as the two vessels lay becalmed within a hundred fathoms of each other. These sayings, however, had been frequent and intelligible. All men like to deal in that which makes them of importance; and the possession of his secrets had just the effect on Daggett's mind that was necessary to render him boastful. Under such impulses his tongue had not been very guarded; and facts leaked out which, when transmitted to his native island, through the medium of half a dozen tongues and as many fancies, amounted to statements sufficient to fire the imaginations of a people much duller than those of Martha's Vineyard. Accustomed to converse and think of such expeditions, it is not surprising that a few of the most enterprising of those who first heard the reports should unite and plan the adventure they now actually had in hand. When the intelligence of what was going on on Oyster Pond reached them, everything like hesitation or doubt disappeared; and from the moment of the nephew's return in quest of his uncle's assets, the equipment of the "Humses' Hull" craft had been pressed in a way that would have done credit to that of a government cruiser. Even Henry Eckford, so well known for having undertaken to cut the trees and put upon the waters of Ontario two double-bank frigates, if frigates they could be termed, each of which was to mount its hundred guns, in the short space of sixty days, scarce manifested greater energy in carrying out his contract, than did these rustic islanders in preparing their craft to compete with that which they were now certain was about to sail from the place where their kinsman had breathed his last.

These keen and spirited islanders, however, did not work quite as much in the dark as our accounts, unexplained, might give the reader reason to suppose. It will be remembered that there was a till to the chest which had not been examined by the deacon. This till contained an old mutilated journal, not of the last, but of one or two of the earlier voyages of the deceased; though it had detached entries that evidently referred to different and distant periods of time. By dint of study, and by putting together sundry entries that at first sight might not be supposed to have any connection with each other, the present possessor of that chest had obtained what he deemed to be very sufficient clues to his uncle's two great secrets. There were also in the chest several loose pieces of paper, on which there were rude attempts to make charts of all the islands and keys in question, giving their relative positions as it respected their immediate neighbours, but in no instance giving the latitudes and longitudes. In addition to these significant proofs that the reports brought through the two masters were not without a foundation, there was an unfinished letter, written by the deceased, and addressed as a sort of legacy, "to any, or all of Martha's Vineyard, of the name of Daggett." This address was sufficiently wide, including, probably, some hundreds of persons: a clan in fact; but it was also sufficiently significant. The individual into whose hands it first fell, being of the name, read it first, as a matter of course, when he carefully folded it up, and placed it in a pocket-book which he was much in the habit of carrying in his own pocket. On what principle this letter, unfinished and without a signature, with nothing indeed but its general and comprehensive address to point out its origin as well as its destination, was thus appropriated to the purposes of a single individual, we shall not stop to inquire. Such was the fact, however, and none connected with the equipment of the Sea Lion, of Holmes' Hole, knew anything of the existence of that document, its present possessor excepted. He looked it over occasionally, and deemed the information it conveyed of no trifling import, under all the circumstances of the case.

Both the enterprises of which we have given an opening account were perfectly characteristic of the state of society in which they were brought into existence. Deacon Pratt, if he had any regular calling, was properly a husbandman, though the love of money had induced him to invest his cash in nearly every concern around him, which promised remunerating returns. The principal owners of the Sea Lion, of Holmes' Hole, were husbandmen also; folk who literally tilled the earth, cradled their own oats and rye, and mowed their own meadows. Notwithstanding, neither of these men, those of the Vineyard any more than he of Oyster Pond, had hesitated about investing of his means in a maritime expedition, just as if they were all regular ship-owners of the largest port in the Union. With such men, it is only necessary to exhibit an account with a fair prospect of large profits, and they are ever ready to enter, into the adventure, heart, hand, and pocket. Last season, it may have been to look for whales on the coast of Japan; the season before that, to search for islands frequented by the seals; this season, possibly, to carry a party out to hunt for camelopards, set nets for young lions, and beat up the quarters of the rhinoceros on the plains of Africa: while the next, they may be transporting ice from Long Pond to Calcutta and Kingston—not to say to London itself. Of such materials are those descendants of the Puritans composed; a mixture of good and evil; of the religion which clings to the past, in recollection rather than in feeling, mingled with a worldly-mindedness that amounts nearly to rapacity; all cloaked and rendered decent by a conventional respect for duties, and respectable and useful, by frugality, enterprise, and untiring activity.

Roswell Gardiner had not mistaken the persons of those in the boat. They proved to be Phil Hazard, his first officer; Tim Green, the second mate; and the two sealers whom it had cost so much time and ingenuity to obtain. Although neither of the mates even suspected the truth, no sooner had they engaged the right sort of man than he was tampered with by the agents of the Martha's Vineyard concern, and spirited away by means of more tempting proposals, before he had got quite so far as to sign the articles. One of the motives for sending Watson across to Oyster Pond had been to induce Captain Gardiner to believe he had engaged so skilful a hand, which would effectually prevent his attempting to procure another, until, at the last moment, he might find himself unable to put to sea for the want of a complement. A whaling or a sealing voyage requires that the vessel should take out with her the particular hands necessary to her specific object, though, of late years, the seamen have got so much in the habit of 'running,' especially in the Pacific, that it is only the craft that strictly belong to what may be termed the whaling communities, that bring back with them the people they carry out, and not always them.

But here had Roswell Gardiner his complement full, and nearly everything ready to sea. He had only to go up to the Harbour and obtain his clearance, have a short interview with his owner, a longer with Mary, and be off for the antarctic circle, if indeed the ice would allow him to get as far south. There were now sixteen souls on board the Sea Lion, a very sufficient number for the voyage on which she was about to sail. The disposition or rating of the crew was as follows, viz.

1. Roswell Gardiner, master. 2. Philip Hazard, chief mate. 3. Timothy Green, second do. 4. David Weeks, carpenter. 5. Nathan Thompson, seaman. 6. Sylvester Havens, do. 7. Marcus Todd, do. 8. Hiram Flint, do. 9. Joshua Short, seaman. 10. Stephen Stimson, do. 11. Bartlett Davidson, do. 12. Peter Mount, landsman. 13. Arcularius Mott, do. 14. Robert Smith, do. 15. Cato Livingston, cook. 16. Primus Floyd, boy.

This was considered a good crew, on the whole. Every man was a native American, and most of them belonged to old Suffolk. Thompson, and Flint, and Short, and Stimson, four capital fellows in their way, came from the main; the last, it was said, from as far east as Kennebunk. No matter; they were all reasonably young, hale, active fellows, with a promise of excellent service about every man of them. Livingston and Floyd were coloured persons, who bore the names of the two respectable families in which they or their progenitors had formerly been slaves. Weeks was accustomed to the sea, and might have been rated indifferently as a carpenter or as a mariner. Mount and Mott, though shipped as landsmen, were a good deal accustomed to the water also, having passed each two seasons in coasters, though neither had ever yet been really outside, or seen blue water.

It would not have been easy to give to the Sea Lion a more efficient crew; yet there was scarce a real seaman belonging to her—a man who could have been made a captain of the forecastle on board a frigate or a ship of the line. Even Gardiner, the best man in his little craft in nearly every respect, was deficient in many attainments that mark the thorough sea-dog. He would have been remarkable anywhere for personal activity, for courage, readiness, hardihood, and all those qualities which render a man useful in the business to which he properly belonged; but he could hardly be termed a skilful leadsman, knew little of the finesse of his calling, and was wanting in that in-and-in breeding which converts habit into an instinct, and causes the thorough seaman to do the right thing, blow high or blow low, in the right way, and at the right moment. In all these respects, however, he was much the best man on board; and he was so superior to the rest as fully to command all their respect. Stimson was probably the next best seaman, after the master.

The day succeeding that on which the Sea Lion received the remainder of her people, Roswell Gardiner went up to the Harbour, where he met Deacon Pratt, by appointment. The object was to clear the schooner out, which could be done only at that place. Mary accompanied her uncle, to transact some of her own little domestic business; and it was then arranged between the parties, that the deacon should make his last visit to his vessel in the return-boat of her master, while Roswell Gardiner should take Mary back to Oyster Pond, in the whale-boat that had brought her and her uncle over. As Baiting Joe, as usual, had acted as ferryman, it was necessary to get rid of him, the young sailor desiring to be alone with Mary. This was easily enough effected, by a present of a quarter of a dollar. The boat having two lugg sails, and the wind being light and steady, at south-west, there was nothing to conflict with Roswell Gardiner's wishes.

The young sailor left the wharf at Sag Harbour about ten minutes after the deacon had preceded him, on his way to the schooner. As the wind was so light and so fair, he soon had his sheets in, and the boat gliding along at an easy rate, which permitted him to bestow nearly all his attention on his charming companion. Roswell Gardiner had sought this occasion, that he might once more open his heart to Mary, and urge his suit for the last time, previously to so long an absence. This he did in a manly frank way, that was far from being unpleasant to his gentle listener, whose inclinations, for a few minutes, blinded her to the resolutions already made on principle. So urgent was her suitor, indeed, that she should solemnly plight her faith to him, ere he sailed, that a soft illusion came over the mind of one as affectionate as Mary, and she was half-inclined to believe her previous determination was unjustifiable and obdurate. But the head of one of her high principles, and clear views of duty, could not long be deceived by her heart, and she regained the self-command which had hitherto sustained her in all her former trials, in connection with this subject.

"Perhaps it would have been better, Roswell," she said, "had I taken leave of you at the Harbour, and not incurred the risk of the pain that I foresee I shall both give and bear, in our present discourse. I have concealed nothing from you; possibly I have been more sincere than prudence would sanction. You know the only obstacle there is to our union; but that appears to increase in strength, the more I ask you to reflect on it—to try to remove it."

"What would you have me do, Mary! Surely, not to play the hypocrite, and profess to believe that which I certainly do not, and which, after all my inquiries, I cannot believe."

"I am sorry it is so, on every account," returned Mary, in a low and saddened tone. "Sorry, that one of so frank, ingenuous a mind, should find it impossible to accept the creed of his fathers, and sorry that it must leave so impassable a chasm between us, for ever."

"No, Mary; that can never be! Nothing but death can separate us for so long a time! While we meet, we shall at least be friends; and friends love to meet and to see each other often."

"It may seem unkind, at a moment like this, Roswell, but it is in truth the very reverse, if I say we ought not to meet each other here, if we are bent on following our own separate ways towards a future world. My God is not your God; and what can there be of peace in a family, when its two heads worship different deities? I am afraid that you do not think sufficiently of the nature of these things.

"I did not believe you to be so illiberal, Mary! Had the deacon said as much, I might not have been surprised; but, for one like you to tell me that my God is not your God, is narrow, indeed!"

"Is it not so, Roswell? And, if so, why should we attempt to gloss over the truth by deceptive words? I am a believer in the Redeemer, as the Son of God; as one of the Holy Trinity; while you believe in him only as a man—a righteous and just, a sinless man, if you will, but as a man only. Now, is not the difference in these creeds immense? Is it not, in truth, just the difference between God and man? I worship my Redeemer; regard him as the equal of the Father—as a part of that Divine Being; while you look on him as merely a man without sin—as a man such as Adam probably was before the fall."

"Do we know enough of these matters, Mary, to justify us in allowing them to interfere with our happiness?"

"We are told that they are all-essential to our happiness—not in the sense you may mean, Roswell, but in one of far higher import—and we cannot neglect them, without paying the penalty."

"I think you carry these notions too far, dearest Mary, and that it is possible for man and wife most heartily to love each other, and to be happy in each other, without their thinking exactly alike on religion. How many good and pious women do you see, who are contented and prosperous as wives and mothers, and who are members of meeting, but whose husbands make no profession of any sort!"

"That may be true, or not. I lay no claim to a right to judge of any other's duties, or manner of viewing what they ought to do. Thousands of girls marry without feeling the very obligations that they profess to reverence; and when, in after life, deeper convictions come, they cannot cast aside the connections they have previously formed, if they would; and probably would not, if they could. That is a different thing from a young woman, who has a deep sense of what she owes to her Redeemer, becoming deliberately, and with a full sense of what she is doing, the wife of one who regards her God as merely a man—I care not how you qualify this opinion, by saying a pure and sinless man; it will be man, still. The difference between God and man is too immense, to be frittered away by any such qualifications as that"

"But, if I find it impossible to believe all you believe, Mary, surely you would not punish me for having the sincerity to tell you the truth, and the whole truth."

"No, indeed, Roswell," answered the honest girl, gently, not to say tenderly. "Nothing has given me a better opinion of your principles, Roswell—a higher notion of what your upright and frank character really is, than the manly way in which you have admitted the justice of my suspicions of your want of faith—of faith, as I consider faith can alone exist. This fair dealing has made me honour you, and esteem you, in addition to the more girlish attachment that I do not wish to conceal from you, at least, I have so long felt."

"Blessed Mary!" exclaimed Roswell Gardiner, almost ready to fall down on his knees and worship the pretty enthusiast, who sat at his side, with a countenance in which intense interest in his welfare was beaming from two of the softest and sweetest blue eyes that maiden ever bent on a youth in modest tenderness, whatever disposition he might be in to accept her God as his God. "How can one so kind in all other respects, prove so cruel in this one particular!"

"Because that one particular, as you term it, Roswell, is all in all to her," answered the girl, with a face that was now flushed with feeling. "I must answer you as Joshua told the Israelites of old—'Choose you, this day, whom you will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served, that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.'"

"Do you class me with the idolaters and pagans of Palestine?" demanded Gardiner, reproachfully.

"You have said it, Roswell. It is not I, but yourself, who have thus classed you. You worship your reason, instead of the one true and living God. This is idolatry of the worst character, since the idol is never seen by the devotee, and he does not know of its existence."

"You consider it then idolatry for one to use those gifts which he has received from his Maker, and to treat the most important of all subjects, as a rational being, instead of receiving a creed blindly, and without thought?"

"If what you call thought could better the matter; if it were sufficient to comprehend and master this subject, there might be force in what you say. But what is this boasted reason, after all? It is not sufficient to explain a single mystery of the creation, though there are thousands. I know there are, nay there must be, a variety of opinions among those who look to their reasons, instead of accepting the doctrine of revelation, for the character of Christ; but I believe all, who are not open infidels, admit that the atonement of his death was sufficient for the salvation of men: now, can you explain this part of the theory of our religion any more than you can explain the divine nature of the Redeemer? Can you reason any more wisely touching the fall, than touching the redemption itself? I know I am unfit to treat of matters of this profound nature," continued Mary, modestly, though with great earnestness and beauty of manner; "but, to me, it seems very plain that the instant circumstances lead us beyond the limits of our means of comprehension, we are to believe in, and not to reason on, revelation. The whole history of Christianity teaches this. Its first ministers were uneducated men; men who were totally ignorant until enlightened by their faith; and all the lessons it teaches are to raise faith, and faith in the Redeemer, high above all other attainments, as the one great acquisition that includes and colours every other. When such is the fact, the heart does not make a stumbling-block of every thing that the head cannot understand."

"I do not know how it is," answered Roswell Gardiner, influenced, though unconvinced; "but when I talk with you on this subject, Mary, I cannot do justice to my opinions, or to the manner in which I reason on them with my male friends and acquaintance. I confess it does appear to me illogical, unreasonable—I scarce know how to designate what I mean—but, improbable, that God should suffer himself, or his Son, to be crucified by beings that he himself created, or that he should feel a necessity for any such course, in order to redeem beings he had himself brought into existence."

"If there be any argument in the last, Roswell, it is an argument as much against the crucifixion of a man, as against the crucifixion of one of the Trinity itself. I understand you to believe that such a being as Jesus of Nazareth did exist; that he was crucified for our redemption; and that the atonement was accepted, and acceptable before God the Father. Now, is it not just as difficult to understand how, or why, this should be, as to understand the common creed of Christians?"

"Surely, there is a vast difference between the crucifixion of a subordinate being, and the crucifixion of one who made a part of the Godhead itself, Mary! I can imagine the first, though I may not pretend to understand its reasons, or why it was necessary it should be so; but, I am certain you will not mistake my motive when I say, I cannot imagine the other."

"Make no apologies to me, Roswell; look rather to that Dread Being whose teachings, through chosen ministers, you disregard. As for what you say, I can fully feel its truth. I do not pretend to understand why such a sacrifice should be necessary, but I believe it, feel it; and believing and feeling it, I cannot but adore and worship the Son, who quitted heaven to come on earth, and suffered, that we might possess eternal life. It is all mystery to me, as is the creation itself, our existence, God himself, and all else that my mind is too limited to comprehend. But, Roswell, if I believe a part of the teachings of the Christian church, I must believe all. The apostles, who were called by Christ in person, who lived in his very presence, who knew nothing except as the Holy Spirit prompted, worshipped him as the Son of God, as one 'who thought it not robbery to be equal with God;' and shall I, ignorant and uninspired, pretend to set up my feeble means of reasoning, in opposition to their written instructions!"

"Yet must each of us stand or fall by the means he possesses, and the use he makes of them."

"That is quite true, Roswell; and ask yourself the use to which you put your own faculties. I do not deny that we are to exercise our reason, but it is within the bounds set for its exercise. We may examine the evidence of Christianity, and determine for ourselves how far it is supported by reasonable and sufficient proofs; beyond this we cannot be expected to go, else might we be required to comprehend the mystery of our own existence, which just as much exceeds our understanding as any other. We are told that man was created in the image of his Creator, which means that there is an immortal and spiritual part of him that is entirely different from the material creature One perishes, temporarily at least—a limb can be severed from the body and perish, even while the body survives; but it is not so with that which has been created in the image of the deity. That is imperishable, immortal, spiritual, though doomed to dwell awhile in a tenement of clay. Now, why is it more difficult to believe that pure divinity may have entered into the person of one man, than to believe, nay to feel, that the image of God has entered into the persons of so many myriads of men? You not only overlook all this, Roswell, but you commit the, to me inexplicable, mistake of believing a part of a mystery, while you hesitate about believing all. Were you to deny the merits of the atonement altogether, your position would be much stronger than it is in believing what you do. But, Roswell, we will not embitter the moment of separation by talking more on this subject, now. I have other things to say to you, and but little time to say them in. The promise you have asked of me to remain single until your return, I most freely make. It costs me nothing to give you this pledge, since there is scarce a possibility of my ever marrying another."

Mary repeated these words, or rather this idea in other words, to Roswell Gardiner's great delight; and again and again he declared that he could now penetrate the icy seas with a light heart, confident he should find her, on his return, disengaged, and, as he hoped, as much disposed to regard him with interest as she then was. Nevertheless, Gardiner did not deceive himself as to Mary's intentions. He knew her and her principles too well, to fancy that her resolution would be very likely to falter. Notwithstanding their long and intimate knowledge of each other, at no time had she ever betrayed a weakness that promised to undermine her high sense of duty; and as time increased her means of judging of what those duties were, her submission to them seemed to be stronger and stronger. Had there been anything stern or repulsive in Mary's manner of manifesting the feeling that was uppermost in her mind, one of Roswell Gardiner's temperament would have been very apt to shake off her influence; but, so far from this being the case, she ever met him and parted from him with a gentle and ingenuous interest in his welfare, and occasionally with much womanly tenderness. He knew that she prayed for him daily, as fervently as she prayed for herself; and even this, he hoped, would serve to keep alive her interest in him, during his absence. In this respect our young sailor showed no bad comprehension of human nature, nothing being more likely to maintain an influence of this sort, than the conviction that on ourselves depends the happiness or interests of the person beloved.



Chapter VIII.



"And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers—they to me Were a delight; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror—'twas a pleasing fear; For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows, far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane—as I do here."

Byron.

It was past the turn of the day when Roswell Gardiner reached his vessel, after having carefully and with manly interest in all that belonged to her, seen Mary to her home, and taken his final leave of her. Of that parting we shall say but little. It was touching and warm-hearted, and it was rendered a little solemn by Mary Pratt's putting into her lover's hand a pocket-bible, with an earnest request that he would not forget to consult its pages. She added, at the same time, that she had carefully marked those passages which she wished him most to study and reflect on. The book was accepted in the spirit in which it was offered, and carefully placed in a little case that contained about a hundred volumes of different works.

As the hour approached for lifting the anchor, the nervousness of the deacon became very apparent to the commander of his schooner. At each instant the former was at the latter's elbow, making some querulous suggestion, or asking a question that betrayed the agitated and unsettled state of his mind. It really seemed as if the old man, at the last moment, had not the heart to part with his property, or to trust it out of his sight. All this annoyed Roswell Gardiner, disposed as he was, at that instant, to regard every person and thing that in any manner pertained to Mary Pratt, with indulgence and favour.

"You will be particular about them islands, Captain Gar'ner, and not get the schooner ashore," said the deacon, for the tenth time at least. "They tell me the tide runs like a horse in the high latitudes, and that seamen are often stranded by them, before they know where they are."

"Ay, ay, sir; I'll try and bear it in mind," answered Gardiner, vexed at being importuned so often to recollect that which there was so little likelihood of his forgetting; "I am an old cruiser in those seas, deacon, and know all about the tides. Well, Mr. Hazard, what is the news of the anchor?"

"We are short, sir, and only wait for orders to go on, and get clear of the ground."

"Trip, at once, sir; and so farewell to America—or to this end of it, at least."

"Then the keys, they tell me, are dangerous navigation, Gar'ner, and a body needs have all his eyes about him."

"All places have their dangers to your sleepy navigator, deacon; but the man who keeps his eyes open has little to fear. Had you given us a chronometer, there would not have been one-half the risk there will be without one."

This had been a bone of contention between the master of the Sea Lion and his owner. Chronometers were not, by any means, in as general use at the period of our tale as they are to-day; and the deacon abhorred the expense to which such an article would have put him. Could he have got one at a fourth of the customary price he might have been tempted; but it formed no part of his principles of saving to anticipate and prevent waste by liberality.

No sooner was the schooner released from the ground than her sails were filled, and she went by the low spit of sand already mentioned, with the light south-west breeze still blowing in her favour, and an ebb tide. Everything appeared propitious, and no vessel probably ever left home under better omens. The deacon remained on board until Baiting Joe, who was to act as his boatman, reminded him of the distance and the probability that the breeze would go down entirely with the sun. As it was, they had to contend with wind and tide, and it would require all his own knowledge of the eddies to get the whale-boat up to Oyster Pond in anything like reasonable time. Thus admonished, the owner tore himself away from his beloved craft, giving "young Gar'ner" as many 'last words' as if he were about to be executed. Roswell had a last word on his part, however, in the shape of a message to Mary.

"Tell Mary, deacon," said the young sailor, in an aside, "that I rely on her promise, and that I shall think of her, whether it be under the burning sun of the line, or among the ice of the antarctic."

"Yes, yes; that's as it should be," answered the deacon, heartily. "I like your perseverance, Gar'ner, and hope the gal will come round yet, and I shall have you for a nephew. There's nothing that takes the women's minds like money. Fill up the schooner with skins and ile, and bring back that treasure, and you make as sure of Mary for a wife as if the parson had said the benediction over you."

Such was Deacon Pratt's notion of his niece, as well as of the female sex. For months he regarded this speech as a coup de maitre, while Roswell Gardiner forgot it in half an hour; so much better than the uncle did the lover comprehend the character of the niece.

The Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, had now cast off the last ligament which connected her with the land. She had no pilot, none being necessary, or usual, in those waters; all that a vessel had to do being to give Long Island a sufficient berth in rounding its eastern extremity. The boat was soon shut in by Gardiner's Island, and thenceforth nothing remained but the ties of feeling to connect those bold adventurers with their native country. It is true that Connecticut, and subsequently Rhode Island, was yet visible on one hand, and a small portion of New York on the other; but as darkness came to close the scene, even that means of communication was soon virtually cut off. The light on Montauk, for hours, was the sole beacon for these bold mariners, who rounded it about midnight, fairly meeting the long, rolling swell of the broad Atlantic. Then the craft might be said to be at sea for the first time.

The Sea Lion was found to perform well. She had been constructed with an eye to comfort, as well as to sailing, and possessed that just proportion in her hull which carried her over the surface of the waves like a duck. This quality is of more importance to a small than to a large vessel, for the want of momentum renders what is termed "burying" a very deadening process to a light craft. In this very important particular Roswell was soon satisfied that the ship-wright had done his duty.

As the wind still stood at south-west, the schooner was brought upon an easy bowline, as soon as she had Montauk light dead to windward. This new course carried her out to sea, steering south-south-east, a little easterly, under everything that would draw. The weather appearing settled, and there being no signs of a change, Gardiner now went below and turned in, leaving the care of the vessel to the proper officer of the watch, with an order to call him at sunrise. Fatigue soon asserted its power, and the young man was shortly in as profound a sleep as if he had not just left a mistress whom he almost worshipped for an absence of two years, and to go on a voyage that probably would expose him to more risks and suffering than any other enterprise then attempted by sea-faring men. Our young sailor thought not of the last at all, but he fell asleep dreaming of Mary.

The master of the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond was called precisely at the hour he had named. Five minutes sufficed to bring him on deck, where he found everything as he had left it, with the exception of the schooner itself. In the six hours he had been below, his vessel had moved her position out to sea nearly forty miles. No land was now to be seen, the American coast being very tame and unpicturesque to the eye, as the purest patriot, if he happen to know anything of other parts of the world, must be constrained to admit. A low, monotonous coast, that is scarcely visible at a distance of five leagues, is certainly not to be named in the same breath with those glorious shores of the Mediterranean, for instance, where nature would seem to have exhausted herself in uniting the magnificent with the bewitching. On this continent, or on our own portion of it at least, we must be content with the useful, and lay no great claims to the beautiful; the rivers and bays giving us some compensation in their admirable commercial facilities, for the sameness, not to say tameness, of the views. We mention these things in passing, as a people that does not understand its relative position in the scale of nations, is a little apt to fall into errors that do not contribute to its character or respectability; more especially when they exhibit a self-love founded altogether on ignorance, and which has been liberally fed by flattery.

The first thing a seaman does on coming on deck, after a short absence, is to look to windward, in order to see how the wind stands, and what are the prospects of the weather. Then he turns his eyes aloft to ascertain what canvass is spread, and how it draws. Occasionally, the order of these observations is changed, the first look being sometimes bestowed on the sails, and the second on the clouds. Roswell Gardiner, however, cast his first glance this morning towards the southward and westward, and perceived that the breeze promised to be steady. On looking aloft, he was well satisfied with the manner in which everything drew; then he turned to the second mate, who had the watch, whom he addressed cheerfully, and with a courtesy that is not always observed among sailors.

"A fine morning, sir," said Roswell Gardiner, "and a good-bye to America. We've a long road to travel, Mr. Green, but we've a fast boat to do it in. Here is an offing ready made to our hands. Nothing in sight to the westward; not so much as a coaster, even! It's too early for the outward-bound craft of the last ebb, and too late for those that sailed the tide before. I never saw this bight of the coast clearer of canvass."

"Ay, ay, sir; it does seem empty, like. Here's a chap, however, to leeward, who appears inclined to try his rate of sailing with us. Here he is, sir, a very little abaft the beam; and, as near as I can make him out, he's a fore-tawsail schooner, of about our own dimensions; if you'll just look at him through this glass, Captain Gardner, you'll see he has not only our rig, but our canvass set."

"You are right enough, Mr. Green," returned Roswell, after getting, his look. "He is a schooner of about our tonnage, and under precisely our canvass. How long has the fellow bore as he does now?"

"He came out from under Blok Island a few hours since, and we made him by moonlight. The question with me is, where did that chap come from? A Stunnin'ton man would have naturally passed to windward of Blok Island; and a Newport or Providence fellow would not have fetched so far to windward without making a stretch or two on purpose. That schooner has bothered me ever since it was daylight; for I can't place him where he is by any traverse my poor Parnin' can work!"

"She does seem to be out of her way. Possibly it is a schooner beating up for the Hook, and finding herself too close in, she is standing to the southward to get an offing again."

"Not she, sir. She came out from behind Blok, and a craft of her size that wanted to go to the westward, and which found itself so close in, would have taken the first of the flood and gone through the Race like a shot. No, no, Captain Gar'ner; this fellow is bound south as well as ourselves, and it is quite onaccountable how he should be just where he is—so far to windward, or so far to leeward, as a body might say. A south-south-east course, from any place behind Point Judith, would have taken him off near No Man's Land, and here he is almost in a line with Blok Island!"

"Perhaps he is out of New London, or some of the ports on the main, and being bound to the West Indies he has been a little careless about weathering the island. It's no great matter, after all."

"It is some such matter, Captain Garner, as walkin' round a meetin'-'us' when your ar'n'd is in at the door in front. But there was no such craft in at Stunnin'tun or New London, as I know from havin' been at both places within the last eight-and-forty hours."

"You begin to make me as curious about this fellow as you seem to be yourself, sir. And now I think the matter all over, it is somewhat extr'or'nary he should be just where he is. It is, however, a very easy thing to get a nearer look at him, and it's no great matter to us, intending as we do to make the islands off the Cape de Verde, if we do lose a little of our weatherly position—keep the schooner away a point, and get a small pull on your weather braces—give her a little sheet too, fore and aft, sir. So, that will do—keep her steady at that—south-east and by south. In two hours we shall just about speak this out-of-the-way joker."

As every command was obeyed, the Sea Lion was soon running off free, her bowlines hanging loose, and all her canvass a rap full. The change in her line of sailing drought the sail to leeward, a little forward of her beam; but the movement of the vessel that made the freest wind was consequently the most rapid. In the course of half an hour the stranger was again a little abaft the beam, and he was materially nearer than when first seen. No change was made in the route of the stranger, who now seemed disposed to stand out to sea, with the wind as it was, on an easy bowline, without paying any attention to the sail in sight.

It was noon ere the two schooners came within hail of each other. Of course, as they drew nearer and nearer, it was possible for those on board of each to note the appearance, equipments, and other peculiarities of his neighbour. In size, there was no apparent difference between the vessels, and there was a somewhat remarkable resemblance in the details.

"That fellow is no West India drogger," said Roswell Gardiner, when less than a mile from the stranger. "He carries a boat on deck, as we do, and has one on each quarter, too. Can it be possible that he is bound after seals, as well as we are ourselves!"

"I believe you're right, sir," answered Hazard, the chief-mate, who was now on deck. "There's a sealing look about the gentleman, if I know my own complexion. It's odd enough, Captain Gar'ner, that two of us should come together, out here in the offing, and both of us bound to the other end of the 'arth!"

"There is nothing so very remarkable in that, Mr. Hazard, when we remember that the start must be properly timed for those who wish to be off Cape Horn in the summer season. We shall neither of us get there much before December, and I suppose the master of you schooner knows that as well as I do myself. The position of this craft puzzles me far more than anything else about her. From what port can a vessel come, that she should be just here, with the wind at south-west?"

"Ay, sir," put in Green, who was moving about the decks, coiling ropes and clearing things away, "that's what I tell the chief-mate. Where can a craft come from, to be just here, with this wind, if she don't come from Stunnin'tun. Even from Stunnin'tun she'd be out of her way; but no such vessel has been in that port any time these six weeks. Here, you Stimson, come this way a bit. Didn't you tell me something of having seen a schooner at New Bedford, that was about our build and burthen, and that you understood had been bought for a sealer?"

"Ay, ay, sir," answered Stimson, as bluff an old sea-dog as ever flattened in a jib-sheet, "and that's the craft, as I'm a thinkin', Mr. Green. She had an animal for a figure-head, and that craft has an animal, as well as I can judge, at this distance."

"You are right enough there, Stephen," cried Roswell Gardiner, "and that animal is a seal. It's the twin-brother of the sea lion we carry under our own bowsprit. There's some proof in that, tastes agree sometimes, even if they do differ generally. What became of the schooner you saw?"

"I heard, sir, that she was bought up by some Vineyard men, and was taken across to Hum'ses Hull. They sometimes fit out a craft there, as well as on the main. I should have crossed myself to see what they was at, but I fell in with Mr. Green, and shipped aboard here."

"An adventure by which, I hope, you will not be a loser, my hearty," put in the captain. "And you think that is the craft which was built at New Bedford, and fitted out on the Vineyard?"

"Sartain of it, sir; for I know the figure-head, and all about her build."

"Hand me the trumpet, Mr. Green; we shall soon be near enough for a hail, and it will be easy to learn the truth."

Roswell Gardiner waited a few minutes for the two schooners to close, and was in the very act of applying the trumpet to his mouth, when the usual salutation was sent across the water from the stranger. During the conversation that now took place, the vessels gradually drew nearer to each other, until both parties laid aside their trumpets, and carried on the discourse with the unaided voice.

"Schooner, ahoy!" was the greeting of the stranger, and a simple "Hilloa!" the answer.

"What schooner is that, pray?"

"The Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, Long Island; bound to the southward, after seal, as I suppose you know by our outfit."

"When did you leave Oyster Pond—and how did you leave your owner, the good Deacon Pratt?"

"We sailed yesterday afternoon, on the first of the ebb, and the deacon left us as we weighed anchor. He was well, and full of hope for our luck. What schooner is that, pray?"

"The Sea Lion, of Hum'ses Hull; bound to the southward, after seals, as you probably knew by our outfit. Who commands that schooner?"

"Captain Roswell Gar'ner—who commands aboard you, pray?"

"Captain Jason Daggett," showing himself more plainly, by moving out of the line of the main-rigging. "I had the pleasure of seeing you when I was on the P'int, looking after my uncle's dunnage, you may remember, Captain Gar'ner. 'T was but the other day, and you are not likely to have forgotten my visit."

"Not at all, not at all, Captain Daggett; though I had no idea, then, that you intended to make a voyage to the southward so soon. When did you leave the Hole, sir?"

"Day before yesterday, afternoon. We came out of the Hull about five o'clock."

"How had you the wind, sir?"

"Sou'-west, and sou'-west and by south. There has been but little change in that, these three days."

Roswell Gardiner muttered something to himself; but he did not deem it prudent to utter the thoughts, that were just then passing through his mind, aloud.

"Ay, ay," he answered, after a moment's pause, "the wind has stood there the whole week; but I think we shall shortly get a change. There is an easterly feeling in the air."

"Waal, let it come. With this offing, we could clear Hatteras with anything that wasn't worse than a south-easter. There's a southerly set, in here, down the coast, for two or three hundred miles."

"A heavy south-easter would jam us in, here, between the shoals, in a way I shouldn't greatly relish, sir. I like always to get to the eastward of the Stream, as soon as I can, in running off the land."

"Very true, Captain Gar'ner—very true, sir. It is best to get outside the Stream, if a body can. Once there, I call a craft at sea. Eight-and-forty hours more of this wind would just about carry us there. Waal, sir, as we're bound on the same sort of v'y'ge, I'm happy to have fallen in with you; and I see no reason why we should not be neighbourly, and 'gam' it a little, when we've nothing better to do. I like that schooner of yours so well, that I've made my own to look as nearly resembling her as I could. You see our paint is exactly the same."

"I have observed that, Captain Daggett; and you might say the same of the figure-heads."

"Ay, ay; when I was over on the P'int, they told me the name of the carver, in Boston, who cut your seal, and I sent to him to cut me a twin. If they lay in a ship-yard, side by side, I don't think you could tell one from the other."

"So it seems, sir. Pray haven't you a man aboard there of the name of Watson?"

"Ay, ay—he's my second-mate. I know what you mean, Captain Gar'ner— you 're right enough, 'tis the same hand who was aboard you; but wanting a second officer, I offered him the berth, and he thought that better than taking a foremast lay in your craft."

This explanation probably satisfied all who heard it, though the truth was not more than half told. In point of fact, Watson was engaged as Daggett's second mate before he had ever laid eyes on Roswell Gardiner, and had been sent to watch the progress of the work on Oyster Pond, as has been previously stated. It was so much in the natural order of events for a man to accept preferment when offered, however, that even Gardiner himself blamed the delinquent for the desertion far less than he had previously done. In the mean time the conversation proceeded.

"You told us nothing of your having that schooner fitting, when you were on the Point," observed Roswell Gardiner, whose thoughts just then happened to advert to this particular fact.

"My mind was pretty much taken up with the affairs of my poor uncle, I suppose, Captain Gar'ner. Death must visit each of us, once; nevertheless, it makes us all melancholy when he comes among friends."

Now, Roswell Gardiner was not in the least sentimental, nor had he the smallest turn towards indulging in moral inferences, from ordinary events; but, this answer seemed so proper, that it found no objection in his mind. Still, the young man had his suspicions on the subject of the equipment of the other schooner, and suspicions that were now active and keen, and which led him directly to fancy that Daggett had also some clue to the very objects he was after himself. Singular as it may seem at first, Deacon Pratt's interests were favourably affected by this unexpected meeting with the Sea Lion of Holmes' Hole. From the first, Roswell Gardiner had been indisposed to give full credit to the statements of the deceased mariner, ascribing no small part of his account to artifice, stimulated by a desire to render himself important. But, now that he found one of this man's family embarked in an enterprise similar to his own, his views of its expediency were sensibly changed. Perfectly familiar with the wary economy with which every interest was regulated in that part of the world, he did not believe a company of Martha's Vineyard men would risk their money in an enterprise that they had not good reasons for believing would succeed. Although it exceeded his means to appreciate fully the information possessed by the Vineyard folk, and covetousness did not quicken his faculties on this subject, as they had quickened those of the deacon, he could see enough to satisfy his mind that either the sealing-islands, or the booty of the pirates, or both, had a reality, in the judgments of others, which had induced them also to risk their money in turning their knowledge to account. The effect of this conviction was very natural. It induced Roswell to regard the charts, and his instructions, and all connected with his voyage, as much more serious matters than he had originally been inclined to do. Until now, he had thought it well enough to let the deacon have his fancies, relying on his own ability to obtain a cargo for the schooner, by visiting sealing stations where he had been before; but, now, he determined to steer at once for Daggett's Islands, as he and his owner named the land revealed to them, and ascertain what could be done there. He thought it probable the other Sea Lion might wish to keep him company; but the distance was so great, that a hundred occasions must occur when it would be in his power to shake off such a consort, should he deem it necessary.

For several hours the two schooners stood on in company, keeping just without hailing distance apart, and sailing so nearly alike as to render it hard to say which craft had the best of it. There was nothing remarkable in the fact that two vessels, built for the same trade, should have a close general resemblance to each other; but it was not common to find them so moulded, stowed, sparred and handled, that their rate of sailing should be nearly identical. If there was any difference, it was slightly in favour of the Sea Lion of the Vineyard, which rather drew ahead of her consort, if consort the other Sea Lion could be termed, in the course of the afternoon.

It is scarcely necessary to say that many were the speculations that were made on board these rival vessels—competitors now for the commonest glories of their pursuits, as well as in the ultimate objects of their respective voyages. On the part of Roswell Gardiner and his two mates, they did not fail, in particular, to comment on the singularity of the circumstance that the Sea Lion, of the Vineyard, should be so far out of her direct line of sailing.

"Although we have had the wind at sow-west" (sow-west always, as pronounced by every seaman, from the Lord High Admiral of England, when there happens to be such a functionary, down to the greenest hand on board the greenest sealer) "for these last few days," said Hazard, "anybody can see we shall soon have easterly weather. There's an easterly feel in the air, and all last night the water had an easterly glimmer about it. Now, why a man who came out of the Vineyard Sound, and who had nothing to do but just to clear the west end of his own island, and then lay his course off yonder to the southward and eastward, should bear up cluss (Anglice, close) under Blok, and stretch out to sea, for all the world as if he was a Stunnin'tun chap, or a New Lunnoner, that had fallen a little to leeward, is more than I can understand, Captain Gar'ner! Depend on it, sir, there's a reason for't. Men don't put schooners into the water, now-a-days, and give them costly outfits, with three whale-boats, and sealin' gear in abundance, just for the fun of making fancy traverses, on or off a coast, like your yacht gentry, who never know what they would be at, and who never make a v'y'ge worth speaking on."

"I have been turning all this over in my mind, Mr. Hazard," answered the young master, who was amusing himself at the moment with strapping a small block, while he threw many a glance at the vessel that was just as close under his lee as comported with her sailing. "There is a reason for it, as you say; but, I can find no other than the fact that she has come so much out of her way, in order to fall in with us; knowing that we were to come round Montauk at a particular time."

"Well, sir, that may have been her play! Men bound the same way often wish to fall into good company, to make the journey seem the shorter, by making it so much the pleasanter."

"Those fellows can never suppose the two schooners will keep in sight of each other from forty-one degrees north all the way to seventy south, or perhaps further south still! If we remain near each other a week, 't will be quite out of the common way."

"I don't know that, sir. I was once in a sealer that, do all she could, couldn't get shut of a curious neighbour. When seals are scarce, and the master don't know where to look for 'em, he is usually glad to drop into some vessel's wake, if it be only to pick up her leavin's."

"Outfits are not made on such chances as that. These Vineyard people know where they are going as well as we know ourselves; perhaps better."

"There is great confidence aboard here, in the master, Captain Gar'ner. I overheard the watch talking the matter over early this morning; and there was but one opinion among them, I can tell you, sir."

"Which opinion was, Mr. Hazard——"

"That a lay aboard this craft would be worth a lay and a half aboard any other schooner out of all America! Sailors go partly on skill and partly on luck. I've known hands that wouldn't ship with the best masters that ever sailed a vessel, if they didn't think they was lucky as well as skilful."

"Ay, ay, it's all luck! Little do these fellows think of Providence—or of deserving, or undeserving. Well, I hope the schooner will not disappoint them—or her master either. But, whaling and sealing, and trusting to the chances of the ocean, and our most flattering hopes, may mislead us after all."

"Ay, ay, sir; nevertheless, Captain Gar'ner has a name, and men will trust to it!"

Our young master could not but be flattered at this, which came at a favourable moment to sustain the resolutions awakened by the competition with the rival schooner. Although so obviously competitors, and that in a matter of trade, the interest which above all others is apt to make men narrow-minded and hostile to each other, though the axiom would throw this particular reproach on doctors, there were no visible signs that the two vessels did not maintain the most amicable relations. As the day advanced the wind fell, and after many passages of nautical compliments, by means of signals and the trumpet, Roswell Gardiner fairly lowered a boat into the water, and went a "gamming," as it is termed, on board the other schooner.

Each of these little vessels was well provided with boats, and those of the description in common use among whalers. A whale-boat differs from the ordinary jolly-boat, launch, or yawl—gigs, barges, dinguis, &c. &c., being exclusively for the service of vessels of war—in the following particulars: viz.—It is sharp at both ends, in order that it may 'back off,' as well as 'pull on;' it steers with an oar, instead of with a rudder, in order that the bows may be thrown round to avoid danger when not in motion; it is buoyant, and made to withstand the shock of waves at both ends; and it is light and shallow, though strong, that it may be pulled with facility. When it is remembered that one of these little egg-shells—little as vessels, though of good size as boats—is often dragged through troubled waters at the rate of ten or twelve knots, and frequently at even a swifter movement, one can easily understand how much depends on its form, buoyancy and strength. Among seamen, it is commonly thought that a whale-boat is the safest craft of the sort in which men can trust themselves in rough water.

Captain Daggett received his guest with marked civility, though in a quiet, eastern way. The rum and water were produced, and a friendly glass was taken by one after the other. The two masters drank to each other's success, and many a conventional remark was made between them on the subject of sea-lions, sea-elephants, and the modes of capturing such animals. Even Watson, semi-deserter as he was, was shaken cordially by the hand, and his questionable conduct overlooked. The ocean has many of the aspects of eternity, and often disposes mariners to regard their fellow-creatures with an expansiveness of feeling suited to their common situations. Its vastness reminds them of the time that has neither beginning nor end; its ceaseless movement, of the never-tiring impulses of human passions; and its accidents and dangers, of the Providence which protects all alike, and which alone prevents our being abandoned to the dominion of chance.

Roswell Gardiner was a kind-hearted man, moreover, and was inclined to judge his fellows leniently. Thus it was that his "good evening" at parting, to Watson, was just as frank and sincere as that he bestowed on Captain Daggett himself.



Chapter IX.



"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; Man marks the earth with ruin—his control Stops with the shore;—upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown."

Byron.

That evening the sun set in clouds, though the eastern horizon was comparatively clear. There was, however, an unnatural outline to objects, by which their dimensions were increased, and in some degree rendered indefinite. We do not know the reason why the wind at east should produce these phenomena, nor do we remember ever to have met with any attempt at a solution; but of the fact, we are certain, by years of observation. In what is called 'easterly weather,' objects are seen through the medium of a refraction that is entirely unknown in a clear north-wester; the crests of the seas emit a luminous light that is far more apparent than at other times; and the face of the ocean, at midnight, often wears the aspect of a clouded day. The nerves, too, answer to this power of the eastern winds. We have a barometer within that can tell when the wind is east without looking abroad, and one that never errs. It is true that allusions are often made to these peculiarities, but where are we to look for the explanation? On the coast of America the sea-breeze comes from the rising sun, while on that of Europe it blows from the land; but no difference in these signs of its influence could we ever discover on account of this marked distinction.

Roswell Gardiner found the scene greatly changed when he came on deck next morning. The storm, which had been brewing so long, had come at last, and the wind was blowing a little gale from south-east. The quarter from which the air came had compelled the officer of the watch to haul up on the larboard tack, or with the schooner's head to the southward and westward; a course that might do for a few days, provided it did not blow too heavily. The other tack would not have cleared the shoals, which stretched away to a considerable distance to the eastward. Hazard had got in his flying-jib, and had taken the bonnets off his foresail and jib, to prevent the craft burying. He had also single-reefed his mainsail and foretopsail. The Sea Lion, of the Vineyard, imitated each movement, and was brought down precisely to the same canvass as her consort, and on the same tack. At that moment the two vessels were not a cable's length asunder, the Oyster Ponders being slightly to leeward. Their schooner, however, had a trifling advantage in sailing when it blew fresh and the water was rough; which advantage was now making itself apparent, as the two craft struggled ahead through the troubled element.

"I wish we were two hundred miles to the eastward," observed the young master to his first officer, as soon as his eye had taken in the whole view. "I am afraid we shall get jammed in on Cape Hatteras. That place is always in the way with the wind at south-east and a vessel going to the southward. We are likely to have a dirty time of it, Mr. Hazard."

"Ay, ay, sir, dirty enough," was the careless answer. "I've known them that would go back and anchor in Fort Pond Bay, or even in Gardiner's, until this south-easter had blown itself out."

"I couldn't think of that! We are a hundred miles south-east of Montauk, and if I run the craft into any place, it shall be into Charleston, or some of the islands along that coast. Besides, we can always ware off the land, and place ourselves a day's run further to the southward, and we can then give the shoals a wide berth on the other tack. If we were in the bight of the coast between Long Island and Jersey, 't would be another matter; but, out here, where we are, I should be ashamed to look the deacon in the face if I didn't hold on."

"I only made the remark, Captain Gar'ner, by way of saying something. As for getting to the southward, close in with our own coast, I don't know that it will be of much use to a craft that wishes to stand so far to the eastward, since the trades must be met well to windward, or they had better not be met at all. For my part, I would as soon take my chance of making a passage to the Cape de Verds or their neighbourhood, by lifting my anchor from Gardiner's Bay, three days hence, as by meeting the next shift of wind down south, off Charleston or Tybee."

"We should be only five hundred miles to windward, in the latter case, did the wind come from the south-west, again, as at this season of the year it is very likely to do. But, it is of no consequence; men bound where we have got to go, ought not to run into port every time the wind comes out foul. You know as well as I do, Mr. Hazard, that away down south, yonder, a fellow thinks a gale of wind is a relief, provided it brings clear water with it. I would rather run a week among islands, than a single day among icebergs. One knows where to find land, for that never moves; but your mountains that float about, are here to-day, and there to-morrow."

"Quite true, sir," returned Hazard, "and men that take their lays in sealers, are not to expect anything but squalls. I'm ready to hold on as long as our neighbour yonder; he seems to be trimming down to it, as if in raal earnest to get ahead."

This was true enough. The Sea Lion of the Vineyard was doing her best, all this time; and though unable to keep her station on her consort's weather bow, where she had been most of the morning, she was dropped so very slowly as to render the change nearly imperceptible. Now, it was, that the officers and crews of these two craft watched their "behaviour," as it is technically termed, with the closest vigilance and deepest interest. Those in the Oyster Pond vessel regarded the movements of their consort, much as a belle in a ball-room observes the effect produced by the sister belles around her; or a rival physician notes the progress of an operation, that is to add new laurels, or to cause old ones to wither. Now, the lurch was commented on; then, the pitch was thought to be too heavy; and Green was soon of opinion that their competitor was not as easy on her spars as their own schooner. In short, every comparison that experience, jealousy or skill could suggest, was freely made; and somewhat as a matter of course, in favour of their own vessel. That which was done on board the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, was very freely emulated by those on board her namesake of the Vineyard. They made their comparisons, and formed their conclusions, with the same deference to self-esteem, and the same submission to hope, as had been apparent among their competitors. It would seem to be a law of nature that men should thus flatter themselves, and perceive the mote in the eye of their neighbour, while the beam in their own escapes.

Had there been an impartial judge present, he might have differed from both sets of critics. Such a person would have seen that one of these schooners excelled in this quality, while the other had an equal advantage in another. In this way, by running through the list of properties that are desirable in a ship, he would, most probably, have come to the conclusion that there was not much to choose between the two vessels; but, that each had been constructed with an intelligent regard to the particular service in which she was about to be employed, and both were handled by men who knew perfectly well how to take care of craft of that description.

The wind gradually increased in strength, and sail was shortened in the schooners, until each was finally brought down to a close-reefed foresail. This would have been heaving the vessels to, had they not been kept a little off, in order to force them through the water. To lie-to, in perfection, some after-sail might have been required; but neither master saw a necessity, as yet, of remaining stationary. It was thought better to wade along some two knots, than to be pitching and lurching with nothing but a drift, or leeward set. In this, both masters were probably right, and found their vessels farther to windward in the end, than if they had endeavoured to hold their own, by lying-to. The great difficulty they had to contend with in keeping a little off, was the danger of seas coming on board; but, as yet, the ocean was not sufficiently aroused to make this very hazardous, and both schooners, having no real cargoes, were light and buoyant, and floated dry. Had they encountered the sea there was, with full freights in their holds, it might have been imprudent to expose them even to this remote chance of having their decks swept. Water comes aboard of small vessels, almost without an exception, in head winds and seas; though the contrivances of modern naval architecture have provided defences that make merchant vessels, now, infinitely more comfortable, in this respect, than they were at the period of which we are writing.

At the end of three days, Roswell Gardiner supposed himself to be about the latitude of Cape Henry, and some thirty or forty leagues from the land. It was much easier to compute the last, than the first of these material facts. Of course, he had no observations. The sun had not been visible since the storm commenced, and nearly half the time, during the last day, the two vessels were shut in from one another, by mists and a small rain. It blew more in squalls than it had done, and the relative positions of the schooners were more or less affected by the circumstance. Sometimes, one would be to windward, and ahead; then, the other would obtain a similar advantage. Once or twice they seemed about to separate, the distance between them getting to be so considerable, as, apparently, to render it impossible to keep in company; then the craft would change places, by a slow process, passing quite near to each other again. No one could tell, at the moment, precisely why these variations occurred; though the reasons, generally, were well understood by all on board them. Squalls, careless steering, currents, eddies, and all the accidents of the ocean, contribute to create these vacillating movements, which will often cause two vessels of equal speed, and under the same canvass, to seem to be of very different qualities. In the nights, the changes were greatest, often placing the schooners leagues asunder, and seemingly separating them altogether. But, Roswell Gardiner became satisfied that Captain Daggett stuck by him intentionally; for on all such occasions if his schooner happened to be out of the way, he managed to close again, ere the danger of separating became too great to be overcome.

Our mariners judged of their distance from the land, by means of the lead. If the American coast is wanting in the sublime and picturesque, and every traveller must admit its defects in both, it has the essential advantage of graduated soundings. So regular is the shoaling of the water, and so studiously have the fathoms been laid down, that a cautious navigator can always feel his way in to the coast, and never need place his vessel on the beach, as is so often done, without at least knowing that he was about to do so. Men become adventurous by often-repeated success; and the struggles of competition, the go-ahead-ism of the national character, and the trouble it gives to sound in deep water, all contribute to cast away the reckless and dashing navigator, on this as well as on other coasts, and this to his own great surprise; but, whenever such a thing does happen, unless in cases of stress of weather, the reader may rest assured it is because those who have had charge of the stranded vessel have neglected to sound. The mile-stones on a highway do not more accurately note the distances, than does the lead on nearly the whole of the American coast. Thus Roswell Gardiner judged himself to be about thirty-two or three marine leagues from the land, on the evening of the third day of that gale of wind. He placed the schooner in the latitude of Cape Henry on less certain data, though that was the latitude in which he supposed her to be, by dead reckoning.

"I wish I knew where Daggett makes himself out," said the young master, just as the day closed on a most stormy and dirty-looking night. "I don't half like the appearance of the weather; but, I do not wish to ware off the land, with that fellow ahead and nearer to the danger, if there be any, than we are ourselves."

Here, Roswell Gardiner manifested a weakness that lies at the bottom of half our blunders. He did not like to be outdone by a competitor, even in his mistakes. If the Sea Lion of Holmes' Hole could hold on, on that tack, why might not the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond do the same? It is by this process of human vanity that men sustain each other in wrong, and folly obtains the sanction of numbers, if not that of reason. In this practice we see one of the causes of the masses becoming misled, and this seldom happens without their becoming oppressive.

Roswell Gardiner, however, did not neglect the lead. The schooner had merely to luff close to the wind, and they were in a proper state to sound. This they did twice, during that night, and with a very sensible diminution in the depth of the water. It was evident that the schooner was getting pretty close in on the coast, the wind coming out nearly at south, in squalls. Her commander held on, for he thought there were indications of a change, and he still did not like to ware so long as his rival of the Vineyard kept on the larboard tack. In this way, each encouraging the other in recklessness, did these two craft run nearly into the lion's jaw, as it might be; for, when the day re-appeared, the wind veered round to the eastward, a little northerly, bringing the craft directly on a lee-shore, blowing at the time so heavily as to render a foresail reefed down to a mere rag, more canvass than the little vessels could well bear. As the day returned, and the drizzle cleared off a little, land was seen to leeward, stretching slightly to seaward, both ahead and astern! On consulting his charts, and after getting a pretty good look at the coast from aloft, Roswell Gardiner became satisfied that he was off Currituck, which placed him near six degrees to the southward of his port of departure, and about four to the westward. Our young man now deeply felt that a foolish rivalry had led him into an error, and he regretted that he had not wore the previous evening, when he might have had an offing that would have enabled him to stand in either direction, clearing the land. As things were, he was not by any means certain of the course he ought to pursue.

Little did Gardiner imagine that the reason why Daggett had thus stood on, was solely the wish to keep him company; for, that person, in consequence of Gardiner's running so close in towards the coast, had taken up the notion that the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond meant to pass through the West Indies, visiting the key, which was thought to contain treasure, and of which he had some accounts that had aroused all his thirst for gold, without giving him the clue necessary to obtain it. Thus it was that a mistaken watchfulness on one side, and a mistaken pride on the other, had brought these two vessels into as dangerous a position as could have been obtained for them by a direct attempt to place them in extreme jeopardy.

About ten, the gale was at its height, the wind still hanging at east, a little northerly. In the course of the morning, the officers on board both schooners, profiting by lulls and clear moments, had got so many views of the land from aloft, as to be fully aware of their respective situations. All thoughts of competition and watchfulness had now vanished. Each vessel was managed with a reference solely to her safety; and, as might have been foreseen when true seamen handled both, they had recourse to the same expedients to save themselves. The mainsails of both crafts were set, balance-reefed, and the hulls were pressed up against the wind and sea, while they were driven ahead with increased momentum.

"That main-mast springs like a whale-bone whip-handle, sir," said Hazard, when this new experiment had been tried some ten minutes or more. "She jumps from one sea to another, like a frog in a hurry to hop into a puddle!"

"She must stand it, or go ashore," answered Gardiner, coolly, though in secret he was deeply concerned. "Did Deacon Pratt forgive me, should we lose the schooner, I never could forgive myself!"

"Should we lose the schooner, Captain Gar'ner, few of us would escape drowning, to feel remorse or joy. Look at that coast, sir—it is clear now, and a body can see a good bit of it—never did I put eyes upon a less promising land-fall, for strangers to make."

Roswell Gardiner did look, as desired, and he fully agreed with Hazard in opinion. Ahead, and astern, the land trended to seaward, placing the schooners in a curve of the coast, or what seamen term a bight, rendering it quite impossible for the vessels to lay out past either of the head-lands in sight. The whole coast was low, and endless lines of breakers were visible along it, flashing up with luminous crests that left no doubt of their character, or of the dangers that they so plainly denoted. At times, columns of water shot up into the air like enormous jets, and the spray was carried inland for miles. Then it was that gloom gathered around the brows of the seamen, who fully comprehended the nature of the danger that was so plainly indicated. The green hands were the least concerned, "knowing nothing and fearing nothing," as the older seamen are apt to express their sense of this indifference on the part of the boys and landsmen.

According to the calculations of those on board the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, they had about two miles of drift before they should be in the breakers. They were on the best tack, to all appearances, and that was the old one, or the same leg that had carried them into the bight. To ware now, indeed, would be a very hazardous step, since every inch of room was of importance. Gardiner's secret hope was that they might find the inlet that led into Currituck, which was then open, though we believe it has since been closed, in whole or in part, by the sands. This often happens on the American coast, very tolerable passages existing this year for vessels of an easy draught, that shall be absolutely shut up, and be converted into visible beach, a few years later. The waters within will then gain head, and break out, cutting themselves a channel, that remains open until a succession of gales drives in the sands upon them from the outside once more.

Gardiner well knew he was on the most dangerous part of the whole American coast, in one sense, at least. The capacious sounds that spread themselves within the long beaches of sand were almost as difficult of navigation as any shoals to the northward; yet would he gladly have been in one in preference to clawing off breakers on their outside. As between the two schooners, the Vineyard-men had rather the best of it, being near a cable's length to windward, and so much further removed from destruction. The difference, however, was of no great account in the event of the gale continuing, escape being utterly impossible for either in that case. So critical was the situation of both craft becoming, indeed, that neither could now afford to yield a single fathom of the ground she held.

All eyes were soon looking for the inlet, it having been determined to keep the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, away for it, should it appear to leeward, under circumstances that would allow of her reaching it. The line of breakers was now very distinctly visible, and each minute did it not only appear to be, but it was in fact nearer and nearer. Anchors were cleared away, and ranges of cable over-hauled, anchoring being an expedient that a seaman felt bound to resort to, previously to going ashore, though it would be with very little hope of ground-tackles holding.

The schooner had been described by Hazard as 'jumping' into the sea. This expression is not a bad one, as applied to small vessels in short seas, and it was particularly apt on this occasion. Although constructed with great care forward as to buoyancy, this vessel made plunges into the waves she met that nearly buried her; and, once or twice, the shocks were so great, that those on board her could with difficulty persuade themselves they had not struck the bottom. The lead, nevertheless, still gave water sufficient, though it was shoaling fast, and with a most ominous regularity. Such was the actual state of things when the schooner made one of her mad plunges, and was met by a force that seemed to check her forward movement as effectually as if she had hit a rock. The main-mast was a good spar in some respects, but it wanted wood. An inch or two more in diameter might have saved it; but the deacon had been induced to buy it to save his money, though remonstrated with at the time. This spar now snapped in two, a few feet from the deck, and falling to leeward, it dragged after it the head of the foremast, leaving the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, actually in a worse situation, just at that moment, than if she had no spars at all.

Roswell Gardiner now appeared in a new character. Hitherto he had been silent, but observant: issuing his orders in a way not to excite the men, and with an air of unconcern that really had the effect to mislead most of them on the subject of his estimate of the danger they were in. Concealment, however, was no longer possible, and our young master came out as active as circumstances required, foremost in every exertion, and issuing his orders amid the gale trumpet-tongued. His manner, so full of animation, resolution and exertion, probably prevented despair from getting the ascendancy at that important moment. He was nobly sustained by both his mates: and three or four of the older seamen now showed themselves men to be relied on to the last.

The first step was to anchor. Fortunately, the foresight of Gardiner had everything ready for this indispensable precaution. Without anchoring, ten minutes would probably have carried the schooner directly down upon the breakers, leaving no hope for the life of any on board her, and breaking her up into chips. Both bowers were let go at once, and long ranges of cable given. The schooner was snubbed without parting anything, and was immediately brought head to sea. This relieved her at once, and there was a moment that her people fancied she might ride out the gale where she was, could they only get clear of the wreck. Axes, hatchets, and knives were freely used, and Roswell Gardiner saw the mass of spars and rigging float clear of him with a delight he did not desire to conceal. As it drove to leeward, he actually cheered. A lead was instantly dropped alongside, in order to ascertain whether the anchors held. This infallible test, however, gave the melancholy certainty that the schooner was still drifting her length in rather less than two minutes.

The only hope now was that the flukes of the anchors might catch in better holding ground than they had yet met with. The bottom was hard sand, however, which never gives a craft the chance that it gets from mud. By Roswell Gardiner's calculations, an hour, at the most, would carry them into the breakers; possibly less time. The Sea Lion, of Holmes' Hole, was to windward a cable's length when this accident happened to her consort, and about half a mile to the southward. Just at that instant the breakers trended seaward, ahead of that schooner, rendering it indispensable for her to ware. This was done bringing her head to the southward, and she now came struggling directly on towards her consort. The operation of waring had caused her to lose ground enough to bring her to leeward of the anchored craft, and nearer to the danger.

Roswell Gardiner stood on his own quarter-deck, anxiously watching the drift of the other schooner, as she drew near in her laboured way, struggling ahead through billows that were almost as white as the breakers that menaced them with destruction to leeward. The anchored vessel, though drifting, had so slow a movement that it served to mark the steady and rapid set of its consort towards its certain fate. At first, it seemed to Gardiner that Daggett would pass just ahead of him, and he trembled for his cables, which occasionally appeared above water, stretched like bars of iron, for the distance of thirty or forty fathoms. But, the leeward set of the vessel under way was too fast to give her any chance of bringing this new danger on her consort. When a cable's length distant, the Sea Lion, of the Vineyard, did seem as if she might weather her consort; but, ere that short space was passed over, it was found that she fell off so fast, by means of her drift, as to carry her fairly clear of her stern. The two masters, holding with one hand to some permanent object by which to steady themselves, and each pressing his tarpaulin firmly down on his head with the other, had a minute's conversation when the schooners were nearest together.

"Do your anchors hold?" demanded Daggett, who was the first to speak, and who put his question as if he thought his own fate depended on the answer.

"I'm sorry to say they do not. We drift our length in about two minutes."

"That will put off the evil moment an hour or two. Look what a wake we are making!"

Sure enough, that wake was frightful! No sooner was the head of the Sea Lion, of the Vineyard, fairly up with the stern of the Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, than Gardiner perceived that she went off diagonally, moving quite as fast to leeward as she went ahead. This was so very obvious that a line drawn from the quarter of Roswell's craft, in a quartering direction, would almost have kept the other schooner in its range from the moment that her bow hove heavily past.

"God bless you!—God bless you!" cried Roswell Gardiner, waving his hand in adieu, firmly persuaded that he and the Vineyard master were never to meet again in this world. "The survivors must let the fate of the lost be known. At the pinch, I shall out boats, if I can."

The other made no answer. It would have been useless, indeed, to attempt it; since no human voice had power to force itself up against such a gale, the distance that had now to be overcome.

"That schooner will be in the breakers in half an hour," said Hazard, who stood by the side of young Gardiner. "Why don't he anchor! No power short of Divine Providence can save her."

"And Divine Providence will do it—thanks to Almighty God for his goodness!" exclaimed Roswell Gardiner. "Did you perceive that, Mr. Hazard?"

The 'that' of our young mariner was, in truth, a most momentous omen. The wind had lulled so suddenly that the rags of sails which the other schooner carried actually flapped. At first our seamen thought she had been becalmed by the swell; but the change about themselves was too obvious to admit of any mistake. It blew terribly, again, for a minute; then there was another lull. Gardiner sprang to the lead-line to see the effect on his own vessel. She no longer dragged her anchor!

"God is with us!" exclaimed the young master—"blessed for ever be his holy name."

"And that of his only and true Son," responded a voice from one at his elbow.

Notwithstanding the emergency, and the excitement produced by this sudden change, Roswell Gardiner turned to see from whom this admonition had come. The oldest seaman on board, who was Stimson, a Kennebunk man, and who had been placed there to watch the schooner's drift, had uttered these unusual words. The fervour with which he spoke produced more impression on the young master than the words themselves; the former being very unusual among sea-faring men, though the language was not so much so. Subsequently, Gardiner remembered that little incident, which was not without its results.

"I do believe, sir," cried Hazard, "that the gale is broken. It often happens, on our own coast, that the south-easters chop round suddenly, and come out nor'-westers. I hope this will not be too late to save the Vineyard chap, though he slips down upon them breakers at a most fearful rate."

"There goes his foresail, again—and here is another lull!" rejoined Gardiner. "I tell you, Mr. Hazard, we shall have a shift of wind—nothing short of which could save either of us from these breakers."

"Which comes from the marcy of God Almighty, through the intercession of his only Son!" added Stimson, with the same fervour of manner, though he spoke in a very low tone of voice.

Roswell Gardiner was again surprised, and for another moment he forgot the gale and its dangers. Gale it was no longer, however, for the lull was now decided, and the two cables of the schooner were distended only when the roll of the seas came in upon her. This wash of the waves still menaced the other schooner, driving her down towards the breakers, though less rapidly than before.

"Why don't the fellow anchor!" exclaimed Gardiner, in his anxiety, all care for himself being now over. "Unless he anchor, he will yet go into the white water, and be lost!"

"So little does he think of that, that he is turning out his reefs," answered Hazard. "See! there is a hand aloft loosening his topsail—and there goes up a whole mainsail, already!"

Sure enough, Daggett appeared more disposed to trust to his canvass, than to his ground-tackle. In a very brief space of time he had his craft under whole sail, and was struggling, in the puffs, to claw off the land. Presently, the wind ceased altogether, the canvass flapping so as to be audible to Gardiner and his companions, at the distance of half a mile. Then, the cloth was distended in the opposite direction, and the wind came off the land. The schooner's head was instantly brought to meet the seas, and the lead dropped at her side showed that she was moving in the right direction. These sudden changes, sometimes destructive, and sometimes providential as acts of mercy, always bring strong counter-currents of air in their train.

"Now we shall have it!" said Hazard—"a true nor'wester, and butt-end foremost!"

This opinion very accurately described that which followed. In ten minutes it was blowing heavily, in a direction nearly opposite to that which had been the previous current of the wind. As a matter of course, the Sea Lion of the Vineyard drew off the land, wallowing through the meeting billows that still came rolling in from the broad Atlantic; while the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond tended to the new currents of air, and rode, as it might be, suspended between the two opposing forces, with little or no strain on her cables. Gardiner expected to see his consort stand out to sea, and gain an offing; but, instead of this, Captain Daggett brought his schooner quite near to the disabled vessel, and anchored. This act of neighbourly kindness was too unequivocal to require explanation. It was the intention of the Vineyard men to lie by their consort until she was relieved from all apprehensions of danger. The 'butt-end' of the 'nor'-wester' was too large to admit of intercourse until next morning, when that which had been a small gale had dwindled to a good steady breeze, and the seas had gone down, leaving comparatively smooth water all along the coast. The line of white water which marked the breakers was there, and quite visible; but it no longer excited apprehension. The jury-masts on board the disabled craft were got up, and what was very convenient, just at that moment, the wreck came floating out on the ebb, so near to her as to enable the boats to secure all the sails and most of the rigging. The main-boom, too, an excellent spar, was towed alongside and saved.