gone far, however, before the hoarse voice of Solomon Sprent broke
in upon my meditations.

'Hoy there! Ahoy!' he bellowed, though his mouth was but a few yards
from my ear. 'Would ye come across my hawse without slacking weigh? Clew
up, d'ye see, clew up!'

'Why, Captain,' I said, 'I did not see you. I was lost in thought.'

'All adrift and without look-outs,' quoth he, pushing his way through
the break in the garden hedge. 'Odd's niggars, man! friends are not
so plentiful, d'ye see, that ye need pass 'em by without a dip o' the
ensign. So help me, if I had had a barker I'd have fired a shot across
your bows.'

'No offence, Captain,' said I, for the veteran appeared to be nettled;
'I have much to think of this morning.'

'And so have I, mate,' he answered, in a softer voice. 'What think ye of
my rig, eh?' He turned himself slowly round in the sunlight as he spoke,
and I perceived that he was dressed with unusual care. He had a blue
suit of broadcloth trimmed with eight rows of buttons, and breeches of
the same material with great bunches of ribbon at the knee. His vest
was of lighter blue picked out with anchors in silver, and edged with
a finger's-breadth of lace. His boot was so wide that he might have had
his foot in a bucket, and he wore a cutlass at his side suspended from a
buff belt, which passed over his right shoulder.

'I've had a new coat o' paint all over,' said he, with a wink.
'Carramba! the old ship is water-tight yet. What would ye say, now, were
I about to sling my hawser over a little scow, and take her in tow?'

'A cow!' I cried.

'A cow! what d'ye take me for? A wench, man, and as tight a little craft
as ever sailed into the port of wedlock.'

'I have heard no better news for many a long day,' said I; 'I did not
even know that you were betrothed. When thou is the wedding to be?'

'Go slow, friend--go slow, and heave your lead-line! You have got out
of your channel, and are in shoal water. I never said as how I was
betrothed.'

'What then?' I asked.

'I am getting up anchor now, to run down to her and summon her. Look
ye, lad,' he continued, plucking off his cap and scratching his
ragged locks; 'I've had to do wi' wenches enow from the Levant to the
Antilles--wenches such as a sailorman meets, who are all paint and
pocket. It's but the heaving of a hand grenade, and they strike their
colours. This is a craft of another guess build, and unless I steer wi'
care she may put one in betwee