questions were directly answered.

"We had the wind at east-with-southing, the first day out, and then it
chopped in the night, and blew great guns at north-west, where it held for
the matter of a week. After which there was an Irishman's hurricane, right
up and down, for a day; then we got into these here trades, which have
stood as steady as a ship's chaplain over a punch bowl, ever since."----

Here the topman closed his soliloquy, in order to agitate the tobacco
again, it being impossible to conduct the process of chewing and talking
at one and the same time.

"What of the stranger?" demanded the Rover, a little impatiently.

"It's no church, that's certain, your Honour," said Fid, very decidedly.

"Has he signals flying?"

"He may be speaking with his flags, but it needs a better scholar than
Richard Fid to know what he would say. To my eye, there are three new
cloths in his main-top-gallant-royal, but no bunting abroad."

"The man is happy in having so good a sail. Mr Wilder, do _you_ too see
the darker cloths in question?"

"There is certainly something which might be taken for canvas newer than
the rest. I believe I first mistook the same, as the sun fell brightest on
the sail, for the signals I named."

"Then we are not seen, and may lie quiet for a while, though we enjoy the
advantage of measuring the stranger, foot by foot--even to the new cloths
in his royal!"

The Rover spoke in a tone that was strangely divided between sarcasm and
thought. He then made an impatient gesture to the seamen to quit the poop.
When they were alone, he turned to his silent and respectful officers,
continuing, in a manner that was grave, while it was conciliatory,----

"Gentlemen," he said, "our idle time is past, and fortune has at length
brought activity into our track. Whether the ship in sight be of just
seven hundred and fifty tons, is more than I can pretend to pronounce, but
something there is which any seaman may know. But the squareness of her
upper-yards, the symmetry with which they are trimmed, and the press of
canvass she bears on the wind, I pronounce her to be a vessel of war. Do
any differ from my opinion? Mr. Wilder, speak."

"I feel the truth of all your reasons, and think with you."

A shade of gloomy distrust, which had gathered over the brow of the Rover
during the foregoing scene, lighted a little as he listened to the direct
and frank avowal of his lieutenant.

"You believe she bears a pennant