he broader reaches of the Bay. The wind held
steady, requiring no shifting of canvas, so Sam, having dispatched the
negro below to prepare lunch, and stationed Carr forward as lookout,
called me aft to the wheel. He was a rather pleasant-faced fellow,
yellow as saffron, with rings in his ears, and a wide mouth
perpetually grinning.

"Massa Fairfax he say you real sailorman," he began, looking me over
carefully, with a nod of his head toward the group at the rail. "Dat
so?"

"Yes; I have been a number of years at sea."

"Dat what he say; dat he done bought yer fer dat reason mostly. Ah
reckon den ye kin steer dis boat?"

"I certainly can."

"So? Den Ah's sure goin' fer ter let yer try right now. Yer take hol',
while Ah stand by a bit."

I took his place, grasping the spokes firmly, and he stood aside,
watching every movement closely, as I held the speeding sloop steadily
up to the wind, the spray pouring in over the dipping rail forward.
The grin on his lips broadened.

"What is the course?" I asked curiously.

"'Cross ter dat point yonder--see, whar de lone tree stan's; we done
'round dat 'bout tree hunder' yards out, an' then go straight 'way
north."

"You use no chart?"

He burst into a guffaw, as though the question was a rare joke.

"No, sah; I nebber done saw one."

"But surely you must steer by compass?"

"Dar is a little one somewhar on board, and Ah done ain't seed it fer
mor 'n a yare, Ah reckon. 'Tain't no use enyhow. Whut we steer by is
landmarks. Ah sure does know de Chesapeake. Yer ever bin up de Bay?"

"Yes, twice, but out in the deep water. I suppose you hug along the
west shore. How is the sloop--pretty heavily loaded?"

He nodded, still grinning cheerfully over the ease with which I
manipulated the wheel.

"Chuck full ter de water line; we've done been shovin' things inter
dat hold fer a week past, but she's sure a good sailor. Whut wus it
Massa Roger say yer name wus?"

"Carlyle."

"So he did; don't ever recollect hearin' dat name afore. Ye's one of
dem rebels ober in England?"

"I got mixed up in the affair."

"An' whut dey done give yer?"

"My sentence, you mean--twenty years."

"Lordy! dat's sure tough. Well, I reckon yer done know yer job all
right, so I'll just leave yer here awhile, an' go forrard an' git a
snack. Ain't eat nuthin' fer quite a spell. Ah'll be back afore yer
'round de point yonder."

I was alone at the wheel, the sloop in my control, and somehow as