The horse, a sturdy, sedate beast to whom all names seemed to be alike, picked up his feet and pounded them down again.  Showers of spray flew about the heads of the pair on the seat.

“I ain’t so sure about that duckin’,” commented the rescuer.  “Hum!  I guess likely we’ll be out of soundin’s if we tackle that sink hole you was undertakin’ to navigate.  Let’s try it a little further down.”

Ellery looked his companion over.

“Well,” he observed with a smile, “from what I’ve heard of you, Captain Hammond, I rather guess you could navigate almost any water in this locality and in all sorts of weather.”

The driver turned in surprise.

“So?” he exclaimed.  “You know me, do you?  That’s funny.  I was tryin’ to locate you, but I ain’t been able to.  You ain’t a Trumetite I’ll bet on that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Tut! tut! tut! you don’t tell me.  Say, shipmate, you hurt my pride.  I did think there wa’n’t a soul that ever trod sand in this village that I couldn’t name on sight, and give the port they hailed from and the names of their owners.  But you’ve got me on my beam ends.  And yet you knew me.”

“Of course I did.  Everybody knows the man that brought the packet home.”

Nat Hammond sniffed impatiently.

“Um—­hm!” he grunted.  “I cal’late everybody does, and knows a lot more about that foolishness than I do myself.  If ever a craft was steered by guess and by godfrey, ’twas that old hooker of Zach’s t’other night.  Well—­Humph! here’s another piece of pilotin’ that bids fair to be a mighty sight harder.  Heave ahead, Hannibal! hope you’ve got your web feet with you.”

They had moved along the edge of the flat a short distance and now turned into the channel.  The horse was wading above its knees; soon the water reached its belly and began to flow into the body of the cart.

“Pick up your feet, shipmate,” commanded Nat.  “You may get rheumatiz if you don’t.  This’ll be a treat for those sea clams back in that bucket amidships.  They’ll think I’ve repented and have decided to turn ’em loose again.  They don’t know how long I’ve been countin’ on a sea-clam pie.  I’ll fetch those clams ashore if I have to lug ’em with my teeth.  Steady, all hands! we’re off the ways.”

The cart was afloat.  The horse, finding wading more difficult than swimming, began to swim.

“Now I’m skipper again, sure enough,” remarked Hammond.  “Ain’t gettin’ seasick, are you?”

The minister laughed.

“No,” he said.

“Good! she keeps on a fairly even keel, considerin’ her build.  There she strikes!  That’ll do, January; you needn’t try for a record voyage.  Walkin’s more in your line than playin’ steamboat.  We’re over the worst of it now.  Say! you and I didn’t head for port any too soon, did we?”

“No, I should say not.  I ought to have known better than to wait out there so long.  I’ve been warned about this tide.  I—­”