trim
lines. Even at the dockside, the curve of her bow gave an instant
vision of how the waves would curl back as she drove forward over the
sea. At the waterline, a clear light green contrasted well with the
white of her sides. Above decks, the size of the masts and neatly
furled sails showed at a glance that the _Mirabelle_ was hardy enough
to weather many a storm, and also that her crew were able and well
trained.

Looking about, Chris soon spied Ned Cilley, on deck lounging against
the side of the ship and smoking his pipe. Master Cilley's eyes lit up
as he saw his friends, and hurrying down the gangplank, shook them by
the hand as warmly as if he had not seen them for a month, instead of
just the night before when he had shared with them what Becky termed,
"a taste, a mere spoonful" of supper.

"Eh well, lookee here!" he exclaimed, delighted. "Chris and Amos, by
me soul!" Ned Cilley beamed on them and leaned back on his heels for a
better view. "Lookin' about, lads? Eh, that's the way. Is she not the
finest ship that ever ye did rest your eyes on?"

The boys were agreeing enthusiastically when a remarkable couple came
into sight, pacing the decks of the _Mirabelle_. Soon the watchers
were given a better look, for the two men came down the gangplank to
examine cases that had been brought to the dock for loading, and Chris
and Amos were hard put to it not to laugh out loud at the comical
pair.

The first man was so round and so short he appeared to have no legs at
all. Below a tight round paunch, two small feet looking rather like
mice, went in and out as he walked. The roundness of his face was
underlined by three folds of chin, but his small piercing blue eyes
had a way of suddenly opening wide that made Chris feel the man was no
fool. He constantly burbled with laughter and was in a high good
humor, occasional remarks from his companion causing him now and again
to chuckle with amusement.

What the other man could be saying that was so entertaining Chris
could not imagine, for he was the opposite of the fat good-humored
one.

This second person was twice again as tall as the plump little fellow
beside him, and was as dour and thin as the other was cheery and fat.
He seemed in a state of perpetual depression, and no amount of
chuckles on the part of the plump gentleman could cause even a passing
smile over the long sad face of the dour man.

"Who in the world are they?" Chris asked of Cilley as they drew