he bay. A sailor in uniform was heaving the lead near the
fore rigging.

Leopold saw, as soon as he obtained a full view of the vessel, that she
was a yacht of at least a hundred tons and as beautiful a craft as ever
gladdened the heart of a sailor. There were a dozen men on her
forecastle, and as the Rosabel approached her, a procession of
gentlemen, closely muffled in heavy garments and rubber coats, filed up
the companion-way, doubtless attracted to the deck by the incident of
hailing another craft.

"Schooner, ahoy!" shouted Leopold, as soon as he had made out the
vessel.

"On board the sloop!" replied the voice which resembled the tones of the
fog-horn.

"Where you bound?" demanded the skipper of the Rosabel.

"Belfast."

"You are a long way off your course, then," added Leopold, with
emphasis.

"Will you come on board?" asked the speaker from the yacht.

"Ay, ay, sir, if you wish it," answered Leopold.

"Hard down the helm!" shouted the hoarse voice, which we may as well say
in advance of a nearer introduction, belonged to Captain Bounce, the
sailing-master of the yacht.

"What schooner is that?" called Leopold, as the yacht came up into the
wind.

"The yacht Orion, of New York," replied Captain Bounce.

The skipper of the Rosabel ran under the lee of the Orion, and came up
into the wind all shaking. Leopold threw his painter to the uniformed
seamen of the yacht, and then hauled down his jib.

"Where are we?" asked Captain Bounce, rather nervously for an old salt.

"Two miles off the High Rock ledges; you were headed directly for them,"
replied Leopold, as he let go the halyards of the mainsail.

When he had secured the sail, he ascended the accommodation steps, which
the seaman had placed on the side for his use. One of the hands carried
the painter of the Rosabel to the stern of the Orion.

"I don't know where we are now," said Captain Bounce, who was a short,
stout man, with grizzly hair and beard, both reeking with moisture from
the fog; and he looked like the typical old sea-dog of the drama.

"Do you know where we are, young man?" asked one of the gentlemen who
had filed up the companion-way.

Leopold started suddenly when he heard the voice and turned towards the
speaker.

"Of course I do, Mr. Hamilton," replied Leopold, briskly. "I reckon you
don't know me, sir."

Leopold took off his old hat, and bowed respectfully to the gentleman,
who was muffled up in an immense overcoat with