“It need not be terminated, Captain Spike, so long as friendship exists in the human heart.”

“Ay, so it is always with you ladies; when a man is bent on suthin’ closer and more interestin’ like, you’re for putting it off on friendship.  Now friendship is good enough in its way, Madam Budd, but friendship is n’t love.”

“Love!” echoed the widow, fairly starting, though she looked down at her netting, and looked as confused as she knew how.  “That is a very decided word, Captain Spike, and should never be mentioned to a woman’s ear lightly.”

So the captain now appeared to think, too, for no sooner had he delivered himself of the important monosyllable, than he left the widow’s side, and began to pace the deck, as it might be to moderate his own ardour.  As for Rose, she blushed, if her more practised aunt did not; while Harry Mulford laughed heartily, taking good care, however, not to be heard.  The man at the wheel turned the tobacco again, gave his trousers another hitch, and wondered anew whither the skipper was bound.  But the drollest manifestation of surprise came from Josh, the steward, who was passing along the lee-side of the quarter-deck, with a tea-pot in his hand, when the energetic manner of the captain sent the words “friendship is n’t love” to his ears.  This induced him to stop for a single instant, and to cast a wondering glance behind him; after which he moved on toward the galley, mumbling as he went—­“Lub! what he want of lub, or what lub want of him!  Well, I do t’ink Captain Spike bowse his jib out pretty ’arly dis mornin’.”

Captain Spike soon got over the effects of his effort, and the confusion of the relict did not last any material length of time.  As the former had gone so far, however, he thought the present an occasion as good as another to bring matters to a crisis.

“Our sentiments sometimes get to be so strong, Madam Budd,” resumed the lover, as he took his seat again on the trunk, “that they run away with us.  Men is liable to be run away with as well as ladies.  I once had a ship run away with me, and a pretty time we had of it.  Did you ever hear of a ship’s running away with her people, Madam Budd, just as your horse ran away with your buggy?”

“I suppose I must have heard of such things, sir, my education having been so maritime, though just at this moment I cannot recall an instance.  When my horse ran away, the buggy was cap-asided.  Did your vessel cap-aside on the occasion you mention?”

“No, Madam Budd, no.  The ship was off the wind at the time I mean, and vessels do not capsize when off the wind.  I’ll tell you how it happened.  We was a scuddin’ under a goose-wing foresail—­”

“Yes, yes,” interrupted the relict, eagerly.  “I’ve often heard of that sail, which is small, and used only in tempests.”

“Heavy weather, Madam Budd—­only in heavy weather.”

“It is amazing to me, captain, how you seamen manage to weigh the weather.  I have often heard of light weather and heavy weather, but never fairly understood the manner of weighing it.”