cumstance of his mind being much taken up with odd notions
about lifeboats?" inquired the missionary.

"The same," replied Bax, "though I'll go bound for it there's not an
honester man in Deal than old Jeph is now, whatever he may have done in
the smuggling way when he was young. I have known him only as a good
old man; and in regard to these same notions he has about lifeboats,
it's my firm belief that we'll see his plans, or something like them,
carried out before long. He's not so mad as folk think, and certainly
not half so mad as the people who give no thought whatever to these
subjects."

Bax said this warmly, for there was a strong bond of sympathy between
him and his old friend, whom he could not bear to hear mentioned in a
slighting manner.

"I meant not to say a word against old Jeph," replied Mr Burton,
quickly. "I merely spoke of him in the way in which seamen in these
parts commonly refer to him. It pleases me much to hear so good a
character of him from one who, I have no doubt, has had good opportunity
of judging."

Here Guy Foster, who was standing near the binnacle, turned round and
said earnestly:--

"I can testify to the fact that old Jeph is a good Christian man; at
least if love to our Saviour, and anxiety for the salvation of souls, is
to be accepted as evidence."

The missionary said that there was no better evidence than that, and was
about to question Bax further in regard to the old man who bore such a
peculiar character, when a loud peal of thunder drew the attention of
all to the threatening aspect of the weather.

"Heave the lead, Bill!" cried Bax to one of the men.

"Ha! that's wot I've been lookin' for," observed Bluenose, spitting his
quid over the lee bulwarks, and replacing it with a fresh one. "I've
never got no confidence in a skipper as don't keep his lead a-goin' in
shoal water. Specially in sich waters as them 'ere, wot shifts more or
less with every gale."

The command to heave the lead was followed by an order to reduce sail,
and as the gale freshened and the night closed in, this order was
repeated more than once, until the schooner was beating to windward
under the smallest possible amount of canvas.

An anxious expression rested on Bax's face as he stood by the steersman,
glancing alternately at the sails and at the horizon where clouds of the
blackest kind were gathering.

"Does your barometer indicate very bad weather?" inquired Mr Burton.

"I have no b