dly slap on the
back. "Come, what say; shall we take a cool bottle of London particular
after the fatigues of the day?"

"Wait a little," said I, "wait a little."

"What are you looking at there to windward?" said the captain, who
perceived that my eye was fixed on a particular point.

Before I had time to answer, Thompson came up to me and said, "There is
the ship, sir," pointing to the very spot on which I was gazing. The
captain heard this; and, as fear is ever quicksighted, he instantly
caught the object.

"Running is of no use now," said he; "we have tried her off the wind,
our best going; she beats us at that: and on a wind, I don't think so
much of her; but still, with this smooth water and fine breeze, she
ought to move better. Solomon, there is something wrong, give a look
all round."

Solomon went forward on the starboard side, but saw nothing. As he
looked over the gangway and bow, coming round on the lee side of the
forecastle, he saw some canvas hanging on one of the night-heads. "What
have we here?" said he. No one answered. He looked over the
fore-chains, and found the whole lower studding-sail towing in the
water.

"No wonder she don't move," said the mate; "here is enough to stop the
_Constitution_ herself. Who took in this here lower studding-sail?--
But, never mind, we'll settle that to-morrow. Come over here, you
forecastle men."

Some of the Americans came over to him, but not with very great
alacrity. The sail could not be pulled in, as the vessel had too much
way; and while they were ineffectually employed about it, the flash of a
gun was seen to windward; and as the report reached our ears, the shot
whistled over our heads, and, darted like lightning through the boom
mainsail.

"Hurrah for old England!" said Thompson; "the fellow that fired that
shot shall drink my allowance of grog to-morrow."

"Hold your tongue, you damned English rascal," said the second mate, "or
I'll stop your grog for ever."

"I don't think you will," said the North Briton, "and if you take a
friend's advice, you won't try." Thompson was standing on the little
round-house or poop; the indignant mate jumped up and collared him.
Thompson disengaged him in the twinkling of an eye, and with one blow of
his right hand in the pit of the man's stomach, sent him reeling over to
leeward. He fell--caught at the boom-sheet--missed it, and tumbled into
the sea, from whence he rose no more.

All was now confu