't, Tom; I'm laughing at you for being such an old woman. I
did give you the credit of having more sense. I'm ashamed of you."

"Thankye, sir," said the man sadly.

"You are quite welcome, Tom," said Murray, laughing; "but I suppose you
can't help all these weak beliefs."

"No, sir, we can't help it, some of us," said the man simply; "it all
comes of being at sea."

"There being so much salt in the water, perhaps," said Murray.

"Mebbe, sir; but I don't see what the salt could have to do with it."

"Neither do I, Tom, and if I didn't know what a good fellow you are, and
what a brave sailor, I should be ready to tell you a good deal more than
I shall."

"Go on, sir; I don't mind, sir. I know you mean well."

"But look here; I'm sorry to hear that your messmates think the
_Seafowl_ is an unfortunate craft. But not all, I hope?"

"Yes, sir; we all think so."

"That's worse still, Tom. But you don't mean to forsake her--desert--I
hope?"

"Forsake her--desert? Not me! She's unlucky, sir, and no one can't
help it. Bad luck comes to every one sometimes, same as good luck does,
sir. We takes it all, sir, just as it comes, just as we did over the
landing t'other day--Titely was the unlucky one then, and got a spear
through his shoulder, while though lots of their pretty weapons come
flying about us no one else was touched; on'y got a bit singed. He took
it like a man, sir."

"That he did, Tom. It was most plucky of him, for he was a good deal
hurt."

"Yes, sir--deal more than you young gents thought for. But no, sir:
forsake or desert our ship? Not we! She's a good, well-found craft,
sir, with a fine crew and fine officers. They ain't puffick, sir; but
they might be a deal worse. I'm satisfied, sir."

"I believe you, Tom," said Murray, laughing, "and there is no black cat
on board, for if there were some one must have seen her or him before
now, and it wouldn't have made a bit of difference."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

OVERHAULING A STRANGER.

It was the very next morning just at daybreak that the lookout on the
fore-top hailed the deck with the inspiriting cry that sent a thrill
through all who heard, and brought the officer of the watch forward with
his glass.

"Sail ho!"

A short inspection sufficed, and the news hurried the captain and Mr
Anderson on deck.

"A schooner. The same rig!" exclaimed the captain, without taking his
glass from his eye. "What do you make of her, Mr Anderson