“Well, sir, as to habitations, what’s these to a street in Lunnun?  Begin on the starboard hand, for instance, as you walk down Cheapside, and count as you go; my life for it, you’ll reel off more houses in half an hour’s walk than are to be found in all that there village yonder.  Then you’ll remember, sir, that the starboard hand only has half, every Jack having his Jenny.  I look upon Lunnun as the finest sight in nature, Captain Cuffe, after all I have seen in many cruises!”

“I don’t know, Mr. Strand.  In the way of coast, one may very well be satisfied with this.  Yonder town, now, is called Amalfi; it was once a place of great commerce, they say.”

“Of commerce, sir!—­why, it’s nothing but a bit of a village, or, at most, of a borough built in a hollow.  No haven, no docks, no comfortable place even for setting up the frame of a ship on the beach.  The commerce of such a town must have been mainly carried on by means of mules and jackasses, as one reads of in the trade of the Bible.”

“Carried on as it might be, trade it once had.  There does not seem to be any hiding-place along this shore for a lugger like the Folly, after all, Strand.”

The boatswain smiled, with a knowing look, while, at the same time, the expression of his countenance was like that of a man who did not choose to let others into all his secrets.

“The Folly is a craft we are not likely to see again, Captain Cuffe,” he then answered, if it were only out of respect to his superior.

“Why so?  The Proserpine generally takes a good look at everything she chases.”

“Aye, aye, sir; that may be true, as a rule, but I never knew a craft found after a third look for her.  Everything seems to go by thirds in this world, sir; and I always look upon a third chase as final.  Now, sir, there are three classes of admirals, and three sets of flags; a ship has three masts; the biggest ships are three-deckers; then there are three planets——­”

“The d—­l there are!  How do you make that out, Strand?”

“Why, sir, there’s the sun, moon, and stars; that makes just three by my count.”

“Aye, but what do you say to Jupiter, Saturn, Venus, and all the rest of them, the earth included?”

“Why, sir, they’re all the rest of the stars, and not planets at all.  Then, sir, look around you, and you’ll find everything going by threes.  There are three topsails, three jibs, and three topgallant sails—­”

“And two courses,” said the captain, gravely, to whom this theory of the threes was new.

“Quite true, sir, in name, but your honor will recollect the spanker is nothing but a fore-and-aft course, rigged to a mast, instead of to a jack-yard, as it used to be.”

“There are neither three captains nor three boatswains to a ship, Master Strand.”

“Certainly not, sir; that would be oppressive, and they would stand in each other’s way; still, Captain Cuffe, the thirds hold out wonderfully, even in all these little matters.  There’s the three lieutenants; and there’s the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter—­and—­”