“I should prefer a safe roadstead, to venturing too far in, without a professed pilot.  By the look of the land in-shore, I should think it would be easy to find a lee against this wind, provided we can get good holding-grounds That is the difficulty I most apprehend.”

“Trust ould Ireland for that, yer honour, yes, put faith in us, for that same.  Ye’ve only to fill your top-sail, and stand in; ould Michael and ould Ireland together, will take care of yees.”

I confess I greatly disliked the aspect of things in-shore, with such a pilot; but the aspect of things outside was still worse.  Short-handed as we were, it would be impossible to keep the ship in the channel, should the gale come on as heavily as it threatened; and a single experiment satisfied me, the four men in the boat would be of very little use in working her:  for I never saw persons who knew anything of the water, more awkward than they turned out to be on our decks.  Michael knew something, it is true; but he was too old to turn his knowledge to much practical account, for when I sent him to the wheel, Neb had to remain there to assist him in steering.  There was no choice, therefore, and I determined to stand close in, when, should no suitable offer, it would always be in our power to ware offshore.  The fishing-boat was dropped astern, accordingly, the men were all kept in the ship, and we stood in nearer to the coast:  the Dawn bending to the blasts, under the sail we carried, in a way to render it difficult to stand erect on her decks.

The coast promised well as to formation, though there was much to apprehend on the subject of the bottom.  Among rocks an anchor is a ticklish thing to confide in, and I feared it might be a difficult matter to find a proper bottom, as far out as I deemed it prudent to remain.  But Michael, and Terence, and Pat, and Murphy, or whatever were the names of our protesting confident friends, insisted that ‘ould Ireland’ would never fail us.  Marble and I stood on the forecastle, watching the formation of the coast, and making our comments, as the ship drove through the short seas, buried to her figure-head.  At length, we thought a head-land that was discernible a little under our lee-bow, looked promising, and Michael was called from the wheel and questioned concerning it.  The fellow affirmed he knew the place well, and that the holding-ground on each side of it was excellent, consenting at once to a proposition of mine to bring up under its lee.  We edged off, therefore, for this point, making the necessary preparations for bringing up.

I was too busy in getting in canvas to note the progress of the ship for the next twenty minutes.  It took all four of us to stow the jib, leaving Michael at the wheel the while.  And a tremendous job it was, though (I say it in humility) four better men never lay out on a spar, than those who set about the task on this occasion.  We got it in, however, but, I need scarcely tell the seaman, it was not “stowed