and close up to this great
summit of the submarine Grampians.

The crag, more than a mile in circuit, is over a thousand feet high,
eight miles from the Ayrshire shore. There stands the cove, lonely as a
foundling, proud as Cheops. But, like the battered brains surmounting
the Giant of Gath, its haughty summit is crowned by a desolate castle,
in and out of whose arches the aerial mists eddy like purposeless
phantoms, thronging the soul of some ruinous genius, who, even in
overthrow, harbors none but lofty conceptions.

As the Ranger shot higher under the crag, its height and bulk dwarfed
both pursuer and pursued into nutshells. The main-truck of the Ranger
was nine hundred feet below the foundations of the ruin on the crag's
top:

While the ship was yet under the shadow, and each seaman's face shared
in the general eclipse, a sudden change came over Paul. He issued no
more sultanical orders. He did not look so elate as before. At length he
gave the command to discontinue the chase. Turning about, they sailed
southward.

"Captain Paul," said Israel, shortly afterwards, "you changed your mind
rather queerly about catching that craft. But you thought she was
drawing us too far up into the land, I suppose."

"Sink the craft," cried Paul; "it was not any fear of her, nor of King
George, which made me turn on my heel; it was yon cock of the walk."

"Cock of the walk?"

"Aye, cock of the walk of the sea; look--yon Crag of Ailsa."

CHAPTER XVI.

THEY LOOK IN AT CARRICKFERGUS, AND DESCEND ON WHITEHAVEN.

Next day, off Carrickfergus, on the Irish coast, a fishing boat, allured
by the Quaker-like look of the incognito craft, came off in full
confidence. Her men were seized, their vessel sunk. From them Paul
learned that the large ship at anchor in the road, was the ship-of-war
Drake, of twenty guns. Upon this he steered away, resolving to return
secretly, and attack her that night.

"Surely, Captain Paul," said Israel to his commander, as about sunset
they backed and stood in again for the land "surely, sir, you are not
going right in among them this way? Why not wait till she comes out?"

"Because, Yellow-hair, my boy, I am engaged to marry her to-night. The
bride's friends won't like the match; and so, this very night, the bride
must be carried away. She has a nice tapering waist, hasn't she, through
the glass? Ah! I will clasp her to my heart."

He steered straight in like a friend; under easy sail, lou