“And what is thy opinion, Trysail?—­the ship is doing well, and she carries her canvas bravely.”

“The ship behaves like a well-bred young woman in the presence of the Queen; modest, but stately—­but, of what use is canvas, in a chase where witchcraft breeds squalls, and shortens sail in one vessel, while it gives flying kites to another!  If Her Majesty, God bless her! should be ever persuaded to do so silly a thing as to give old Tom Trysail a ship, and the said ship lay, just here-a-way, where the Coquette is now getting along so cleverly, why then, as in duty bound, I know very well what her commander would do——­”

“Which would be——?”

“To, in all studding-sails, and bring the vessel on the wind.”

“That would be to carry you to the southward, while the chase lies here in the eastern board!”

“Who can say, how long she will lie there?  They told us, in York, that there was a Frenchman, of our burthen and metal, rummaging about among the fishermen, lower down on the coast.  Now, Sir, no man knows that the war is half over better than myself, for not a ha’penny of prize-money has warmed my pocket, these three years;—­but, as I was saying, if a Frenchman will come off his ground, and will run his ship into troubled water, why—­whose fault is it but his own?  A pretty affair might be made out of such a mistake, Captain Ludlow; whereas running after yonder brigantine, is napping out the Queen’s canvas for nothing.  The vessel’s bottom will want new sheathing, in my poor opinion, before you catch him.”

“I know not, Trysail,” returned his captain, glancing an eye aloft; “every thing draws, and the ship never went along with less trouble to herself.  We shall not know which has the longest legs, till the trial is made.”

“You may judge of the rogue’s speed by his impudence.  There he lies, waiting for us, like a line-of-battle ship lying-to for an enemy to come down.  Though a man of some experience in my way, I have never seen a lord’s son more sure of promotion, than that same brigantine seems to be of his heels!  If this old Frenchman goes on with his faces much longer, he will turn himself inside-out, and then we shall get an honest look at him, for these fellows never carry their true characters above-board, like a fair-dealing Englishman.  Well, Sir, as I was remarking, yon rover, if rover he be, has more faith in his canvas than in the church.  I make no doubt, Captain Ludlow, that the brigantine went through the inlet, while we were handing our top-sails yesterday; for I am none of those who are in a hurry to give credit to any will-o’-the-wisp tale; besides which, I sounded the passage with my own hands, and know the thing to be possible, with the wind blowing heavy over the taffrail; still, Sir, human nature is human nature, and what is the oldest seaman after all, but a man?—­And so to conclude, I would rather any day chase a Frenchman, whose disposition is known to me, than have the credit of making traverses, for eight-and-forty hours, in the wake of one of these flyers, with little hope of getting him within hail.”