n!"

"Is there no shelter,--no spot he could make for?"

"Barrin' the islands, there's not a spot between this and America."

"But he could make the islands,--you are sure of that?"

"If the boat was able to live through the say. But sure I know him well;
he 'll never take in a reef or sail, but sit there, with the helm hard
up, just never carin' what came of him! Oh, musha! musha! what druv him
out such a night as this!"

"Come, it's no time for lamenting, my man; get the launch ready, and let
us follow him. Are you afraid?"

"Afraid!" replied the man, with a touch of scorn in his voice; "faix,
it's little fear troubles me. But, may be, you won't like to be in
her yourself when she's once out. I 've none belongin' to me,--father,
mother, chick or child; but you may have many a one that's near to you."

"My ties, are, perhaps, as light as your own," said Harcourt. "Come,
now, be alive. I'll put ten gold guineas in your hand if you can
overtake him."

"I'd rather see his face than have two hundred," said the man, as,
springing into the boat, he began to haul out the tackle from under the
low half-deck, and prepare for sea.

"Is your honor used to a boat, or ought I to get another man with me?"
asked the sailor.

"Trust me, my good fellow; I have had more sailing than yourself, and in
more treacherous seas too," said Harcourt, who, throwing off his cloak,
proceeded to help the other, with an address that bespoke a practised
hand.

The wind blew strongly off the shore, so that scarcely was the foresail
spread than the boat began to move rapidly through the water, dashing
the sea over her bows, and plunging wildly through the waves.

"Give me a hand now with the halyard," said the boatman; "and when
the mainsail is set, you 'll see how she 'll dance over the top of the
waves, and never wet us."

"She 's too light in the water, if anything," said Harcourt, as the boat
bounded buoyantly under the increased press of canvas.

"Your honor's right; she'd do better with half a ton of iron in her.
Stand by, sir, always, with the peak halyards; get the sail aloft in,
when I give you the word."

"Leave the tiller to me, my man," said Harcourt, taking it as he spoke.
"You 'll soon see that I 'm no new hand at the work."

"She's doing it well," said the man. "Keep her up! keep her up! there's
a spit of land runs out here; in a few minutes more we'll have say room
enough."

The heavier roll of the waves, and the in