“You forget, Master Trysail, that I have been aboard the chase, and know something of his build and character.”

“They say as much aboard, here,” returned the old tar, drawing nearer to the person of his captain, under an impulse of strong curiosity; “though crone presume to be acquainted with the particulars.  I am not one of those who ask impertinent questions, more especially under Her Majesty’s pennant; for the worst enemy I have will not say I am very womanish.  One would think, however, that there was neat work on board a craft that is so prettily moulded about her water-lines?”

“She is perfect as to construction, and admirable in gear.”

“I thought as much, by instinct!  Her commander need not, however, be any the more sure of keeping her off the rocks, on that account.  The prettiest young woman in our parish was wrecked, as one might say, on the shoals of her own good looks, having cruised once too often in the company of the squire’s son.  A comely wench she was, though she luffed athwart all her old companions, when the young lord of the manor fell into her wake.  Well, she did bravely enough, Sir, as long as she could carry her flying kites, and make a fair wind of it; but when the squall of which I spoke, overtook her, what could she do but keep away before it?—­and as others, who are snugger in their morals hove-to as it were, under the storm-sails of religion and such matters as they had picked up in the catechism, she drifted to leeward of all honest society!  A neatly-built and clean-heeled hussy was that girl; and I am not certain, by any means, that Mrs. Trysail would this day call herself the lady of a Queen’s officer, had the other known how to carry sail in the company of her betters.”

The worthy master drew a long breath, which possibly was a nautical sigh, but which certainly had more of the north wind than of the zephyr in its breathing; and he had recourse to the little box of iron, whence he usually drew consolation.

“I have heard of this accident before;” returned Ludlow, who had sailed as a midshipman in the same vessel with, and indeed as a subordinate to, his present inferior.  “But, from all accounts, you have little reason to regret the change, as I hear the best character of your present worthy partner.”

“No doubt, Sir, no doubt.—­I defy any man in the ship to say that I am a backbiter, even against my wife, with whom I have a sort of lawful right to deal candidly.  I make no complaints, and am a happy man at sea, and I piously hope Mrs. Trysail knows how to submit to her duty at home.—­I suppose you see, Sir, that the chase has hauled his yards, and is getting his fore-tack aboard?” Ludlow, whose eye did not often turn from the brigantine, nodded assent; and the master, having satisfied himself, by actual inspection, that every sail in the Coquette did its duty, continued—­“The night is coming on thick, and we shall have occasion for all our eyes to keep the rogue in view, when he begins