him a considerable
sum of money to appease him, rather than to satisfy any just claim he
had upon me, he could never be content until he obtained all that could
be had, either by fair means or by foul. There was no more principle in
him than there was in a paving-stone.

"That is St. Augustine Light," I continued. "There can be no mistake
about it, for there is not another light within thirty-five miles of
it; and we could not have gone so wide of the mark as that."

"You are right, Captain Alick, as you always are," laughed the mate.

"None of that, Bob! You know as well as the next fellow that I am not
always right; I wish I were. How was it about going into St. George?" I
replied.

"The exception always proves the rule. I was right by accident that
time. But you never go ahead till you are sure where you are going."

"I shall not this time," I added, turning to the _Coast Pilot_ again.
"'Vessels coming from the northward will run down till the light-house
bears west by north, keeping in three fathoms of water,'" I continued,
reading from the book.

We kept the Sylvania moving at about half-speed until the tower bore in
the required direction; then the mate directed Buck Lingley, who was on
watch forward, to heave the lead.

"Mark under water three," reported the deck-hand.

"That's all right," I added. "Now how is the tide?"

We could cross the bar only when the water was above half-tide; and
this was an important question. We found from our nautical almanac that
it would be half-tide at nine o'clock in the forenoon; and it was not
yet seven in the morning by the corrected time. We were as near the
coast as I cared to go. We could just make out the square tower of the
light-house in the fog, and I was not willing to trust myself in
unknown waters near the shore without a pilot. I directed Washburn to
stop the engine, and keep a sharp lookout for the drift of the steamer.

Leaving the pilot-house, I went forward, and presently discovered a
pilot-boat coming out of the inlet. One of her crew was waving a flag
to the port side from her bow. This meant that we were to bear to
starboard. I told the mate to go ahead, bearing to the northward. In a
few minutes more we had a pilot on board, whose first question was as
to our draft of water. I gave it as nine feet, though it was
considerably less when we had nearly emptied our coal-bunkers. The
pilot decided that we must wait a couple of hours.

The sun rose at