his extraordinary and somewhat loud discourse had been overheard.  Least of all did he suspect that his admiration had been mistaken; and that in what he called “courtin’” the niece, he had been all the while “courtin’” the aunt.  But little apt as she was to discover any thing, Mrs. Budd had enough of her sex’s discernment in a matter of this sort, to perceive that she had fallen into an awkward mistake, and enough of her sex’s pride to resent it.  Taking her work in her hand, she left her seat, and descended to the cabin, with quite as much dignity in her manner as it was in the power of one of her height and “build” to express.  What is the most extraordinary, neither she nor Spike ever ascertained that their whole dialogue had been overheard.  Spike continued to pace the quarter-deck for several minutes, scarce knowing what to think of the relict’s manner, when his attention was suddenly drawn to other matters by the familiar cry of “sail-ho!”

This was positively the first vessel with which the Molly Swash had fallen in since she lost sight of two or three craft that had passed her in the distance, as she left the American coast.  As usual, this cry brought all hands on deck, and Mulford out of his state-room.

It has been stated already that the brig was just beginning to feel the trades, and it might have been added, to see the mountains of San Domingo.  The winds had been variable for the last day or two, and they still continued light, and disposed to be unsteady, ranging from north-east to south-east, with a preponderance in favour of the first point.  At the cry of “sail-ho!” everybody looked in the indicated direction, which was west, a little northerly, but for a long time without success.  The cry had come from aloft, and Mulford went up as high as the fore-top before he got any glimpse of the stranger at all.  He had slung a glass, and Spike was unusually anxious to know the result of his examination.

“Well, Mr. Mulford, what do you make of her?” he called out as soon as the mate announced that he saw the strange vessel.

“Wait a moment, sir, till I get a look,—­she’s a long way off, and hardly visible.”

“Well, sir, well?”

“I can only see the heads of her top-gallant sails.  She seems a ship steering to the southward, with as many kites flying as an Indiaman in the trades.  She looks as if she were carrying royal stun’-sails, sir.”

“The devil she does!  Such a chap must not only be in a hurry, but he must be strong-handed to give himself all this trouble in such light and var’able winds.  Are his yards square?—­Is he man-of-war-ish?”

“There’s no telling, sir, at this distance; though I rather think its stun’-sails that I see.  Go down and get your breakfast, and in half an hour I’ll give a better account of him.”