But the writing was finished, and the letter sealed with wax, Mrs. Budd being quite as particular in that ceremony as Lord Nelson, when the females again repaired on deck.  They found Spike and his mate sweeping the eastern part of the Sound with their glasses, with a view to look out for enemies; or, what to them, just then, was much the same thing, government craft.  In this occupation, Rose was a little vexed to see that Mulford was almost as much interested as Spike himself, the love of his vessel seemingly overcoming his love for her, if not his love of the right—­she knew of no reason, however, why the captain should dread any other vessel, and felt sufficiently provoked to question him a little on the subject, if it were only to let him see that the niece was not as completely his dupe as the aunt.  She had not been on deck five minutes, therefore, during which time several expressions had escaped the two sailors touching their apprehensions of vessels seen in the distance, ere she commenced her inquiries.

“And why should we fear meeting with other vessels?” Rose plainly demanded—­“here in Long Island Sound, and within the power of the laws of the country?”

“Fear?” exclaimed Spike, a little startled, and a good deal surprised at this straight-forward question—­“Fear, Miss Rose!  You do not think we are afraid, though there are many reasons why we do not wish to be spoken by certain craft that are hovering about.  In the first place, you know it is war time—­I suppose you know, Madam Budd, that America is at war with Mexico?”

“Certainly,” answered the widow, with dignity—­“and that is a sufficient reason, Rose, why one vessel should chase, and another should run.  If you had heard your poor uncle relate, as I have done, all his chasings and runnings away, in the war times, child, you would understand these things better.  Why, I’ve heard your uncle say that, in some of his long voyages, he has run thousands and thousands of miles, with sails set on both sides, and all over his ship!”

“Yes, aunty, and so have I, but that was `running before the wind,’ as he used to call it.”

“I s’pose, however, Miss Rose,” put in Spike, who saw that the niece would soon get the better of the aunt;—­“I s’pose, Miss Rose, that you’ll acknowledge that America is at war with Mexico?”

“I am sorry to say that such is the fact, but I remember to have heard you say, yourself, Captain Spike, when my aunt was induced to undertake this voyage, that you did not consider there was the smallest danger from any Mexicans.”

“Yes, you did, Captain Spike,” added the aunt—­“you did say there was no danger from Mexicans.”

“Nor is there a bit, Madam Budd, if Miss Rose, and your honoured self, will only hear me.  There is no danger, because the brig has the heels of anything Mexico can send to sea.  She has sold her steamers, and, as for anything else under her flag, I would not care a straw.”