“You much mistake my vocation, noble captain;” returned the dealer in contraband, faintly laughing.  “Though one of the seas, I am one more used to the calm latitudes than to these whirlwinds of war.  You have visited the brigantine of our mistress, and must have seen that her temple resembles that of Janus more than that of Mars.  The deck of the Water-Witch has none of this frowning garniture of artillery.”

Ludlow listened in amazement.  Surprise, incredulity, and scorn, were each, in turn, expressed in his frowning countenance.

“This is unbecoming language for one of your calling,” he said, scarce deeming it necessary to conceal the contempt he felt.  “Do you acknowledge fealty to this ensign—­are you an Englishman?”

“I am such as Heaven was pleased to make me—­fitter for the zephyr, than the gale—­the jest, than the war-shout—­the merry moment, than the angry mood.”

“Is this the man whose name for daring has passed into a proverb?—­the dauntless, reckless, skilful ‘Skimmer of the Seas!’”

“North is not more removed from south, than I from him in the qualities you seek!  It was not my duty to undeceive you as to the value of your captive, while he whose services are beyond price to our mistress was still on the coast.  So far from being him you name, brave captain, I claim to be no more than one of his agents, who, having some experience in the caprices of woman, he trusts to recommend his wares to female fancies.  Though so useless in inflicting injuries, I may make bold however to rate myself as excellent at consolation.  Suffer that I appease the fears of la belle Barberie during the coming tumult, and you shall own that one more skilful in that merciful office is rare indeed!”

“Comfort whom, where, and what thou wilt, miserable effigy of manhood!—­but hold, there is less of terror than of artifice in that lurking smile and treacherous eye!”

“Discredit both, generous captain!  On the faith of one who can be sincere at need, a wholesome fear is uppermost, whatever else the disobedient members may betray.  I could fain weep rather than be thought valiant, just now!”

Ludlow listened in wonder.  He had raised an arm to arrest the retreat of the young mariner, and by a natural movement his hand slid along the limb it had grasped, until it held that of Seadrift.  The instant he touched the soft and ungloved palm, an idea, as novel as it was sudden, crossed his brain.  Retreating a step or two, he examined the light and agile form of the other, from head to feet.  The frown of displeasure, which had clouded his brow, changed to a look of unfeigned surprise; and for the first time, the tones of the voice came over his recollection as being softer and more melodious than is wont in man.

“Truly, thou art not the ‘Skimmer of the Seas!’” he exclaimed, when his short examination was ended.