nce. An people that think it's French,
or Injine, or Greek, or Hebrew, or any other outlandish tongue, don't
know what they're talkin about. Now, I KNOW, an I assure you what I've
ben a sayin's the gospel terewth, for I had it of an old seafarin man
that's sailed this bay for more'n forty year, an if he ain't good
authority, then I'd like to know who is--that's all."

At this explanation of the etymology of the disputed term, the boys
were silent, and exchanged glances of admiration.

It was some minutes after eight when they left their anchorage, and
began to drift once more. There was no moon, and the night would have
been dark in any case, but now the fog rendered all things still more
obscure. It had also grown much thicker than it had been. At first it
was composed of light vapors, which surrounded them on all sides, it is
true, but yet did not have that dampness which might have been
expected. It was a light, dry fog, and for two or three hours the
deck, and rigging, and the clothes of those on board remained quite
dry. But now, as the darkness increased, the fog became denser, and
was more surcharged with heavy vapors. Soon the deck looked as though
it had received a shower of rain, and the clothes of those on board
began to be penetrated with the chill damp.

"It's very dark, captain," said Bruce, at last, as the boys stood near
the stern.

"Dradful dark," said the captain, thoughtfully.

"Have you really a good idea of where we are?"

"An idee? Why, if I had a chart,--which I haven't, cos I've got it all
mapped out in my head,--but if I had one, I could take my finger an
pint the exact spot where we are a driftin this blessed minute."

"You're going straight down the bay, I suppose."

"Right--yea, I am; I'm goin straight down; but I hope an trust, an
what's more, I believe, I am taking a kine o' cant over nigher the New
Brunswick shore."

"How long will we drift?"

"Wal, for about two hours--darsn't drift longer; an besides, don't want
to."

"Why not?"

"Darsn't. Thar's a place down thar that every vessel on this here bay
steers clear of, an every navigator feels dreadful shy of."

"What place is that?"

"Quaco Ledge," said Captain Corbet, in a solemn tone. "We'll get as
near it as is safe this night, an p'aps a leetle nearer; but, then, the
water's so calm and still, that it won't make any difference--in fact,
it wouldn't matter a great deal if we came up close to it."

"Quaco Led