rolling in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and I did not like to subject the
Shepards and the Tiffanys to any unnecessary discomfort.

"We are going to have a regular muzzler, Washburn," I said, after
glancing at the barometer again.

"There isn't any doubt about that," he replied, laughing. "I wish we
had no ladies on board."

"I was thinking of that myself, and I will go down into the cabin, and
talk the matter over with our passengers," I replied. "Of course if we
give up the chase of the Islander, we are not likely to come near her
again. But Colonel Shepard and his family may decide that question."

I left the pilot-house and went aft. Though we were but a few miles
from the land, there was a tremendous sea raging, and the Sylvania was
pitching violently. I went down into the cabin and found the passengers
trying to keep their places on the transoms. They were all exceedingly
good-natured about the situation. Owen was making jokes, and the young
ladies were laughing at them. Cobbington and Tom Sands had put the
guards on the table, and were doing what they could to prepare for
dinner.

"Why do you shake up the Sylvania so fiercely, Alick?" asked Owen.

"She is behaving very prettily just now; but I came down to tell you
that it is likely to blow, and kick up an uncomfortable sea," I
replied, looking at Mrs. Shepard, who seemed to be the most tried by
the situation.

"But I had an idea that it was blowing already," added Owen.

"So it is, in a mild way," I answered.

"If this is only in a mild way, what will it be when it blows harder?"
asked Mrs. Shepard, nervously.

"It will be worse than it is now," I replied.

"Do you think we are in any danger, Captain Alick," inquired the lady,
looking very anxiously into my face.

"I do not think we are in any danger," I added. "But it is going to
blow a great deal harder than it does now."

"What will it do then, Captain Alick?" asked Miss Edith.

"The Sylvania is small, and she will pitch and roll a great deal more
than she does now. Mr. Garningham has been in her during a very heavy
gale, and he can tell you something about it."

"She stands up straight, and rolls quite over, so that we shall all be
pitched against the ceiling of the cabin," added Owen, maliciously.
"Then she goes down under the brine, quite out of sight of any one
supposed to be on the top of the waves. The water may come down into
this cabin like a young Niagara."

"Then there must be very