“’Just so!  Smooth is the keenest feller.  Don’t care a whit about the line; and the Starlight’s so mighty used to fishin’ inside, that even the fish seem to have a likin’ for the skipper.’

“‘I’ll see after that treaty-breaker, I will,’ growls the chap, changing his good natur’ into bad again.

“‘Down north-east of us ye’ll find him, inside the point,’ continues Pluck, looking all over serious.

“‘I’ll catch the fellow, and right soon, too;’ and, being right good friends, they shook hands, and the Britisher left, quite satisfied.  Just as he, in his boat, was leavin’ the Spunk for the Devastation, Pluck bellowed out, fearin’ he’d forget it, ’Keep a straight course, north-east about two points east! about two points east! and yer sure to come upon him.’  The last thing Pluck saw of the Devastation, she was heading for the supposed spot, steering away, drivin’ all the fish into the middle of the Atlantic, and expecting to find the Starlight where Pluck said she was.

“No sooner was the Devastation put all right than Pluck hauled his wind, and next mornin’ came up with the Starlight, which had taken about eighty barrels of fine fat mackerel.  The game being nicely played, the Starlight and the Spunk both run in for a shelter, where the spoils could be shared according to practical diplomacy—­not the diplomacy that has been twenty years gettin’ the question into an interminable difficulty.  This done, Smooth, having helped the folks on shore with their political meetings, and prayer meetings, and consultation meetings, stepped on board again, and took command of the Starlight without any extra trouble.  But that was not the end of it.  The looks of such fine fat fish raised a mighty fuss in the town, everybody forgot the politics and the prayer meetings, and begun to talk fish.  They declared the Yankees had encroached on the Britisher’s rights.  Despatches were next day to go to head-quarters, a whole British fleet was wanted, and must come down and seize Smooth’s Pinkey, the Starlight—­fish and all.  The whole talk and noise didn’t make much matter to Smooth; he didn’t believe in talking—­acting was his motto—­go-ahead.  ’Blow away, citizens—­blow away!  A little more energy is worth the whole.  There is fish enough for us all; but politics and prayer meetings will not catch them.’

CHAPTER XXV.

THE PIOUS SQUIRE.

“The good people of Nova Scotia were, in days gone by, exceedingly given to Toryism, and, as was then held to be the natural result, very loyal.  To such an extent was this loyalty and love of Toryism—­as it was then called—­carried, that a person who consumed ‘Yankee goods’ was seriously suspected of some improper design against the State.  The consumption of British manufactures and British-grown produce was, on the other hand taken as strong testimony of loyalty and confidence in the wise powers protecting