kipper o' the
_Brixham_ knows no such a word as 'can't.' He's comin'. Yew'll see.
Hawkins never hauled 'is wind yet where a bit o' the yellow was tow be
made. Us'll drink wine in France to-morrow, sure's my name is
Scrivings."

Dan shook his head.

"W'y, yew soft-hearted chap, for tew pins I'd pitch yew ower the cliff."

But as "Capting" Scrivings laughed while he spoke, and shook his friend
roughly by the shoulder, there was little chance of the terrible threat
being fulfilled.

"And min' yew, Dan," he added, "if us lands this un all right, us'll be
rich, lad--ha! ha! Besides, wot's Hawkins got tow be afear'd of? The
_Brixham_ can cut the winkers from the wind's eye, that she can. Tack
and 'alf tack though buried in green seas, Dan. Never saw a craft tow
sail closer tow a wind. Here's tow bold Hawkins and the brave
_Brixham_!"

The toast was drunk from a black bottle which the "capting" handed to
Dan.

"'Ave a pull, chap; yew needs it to brace yewr courage tow the
sticking-point."

* * * * *

Captain Butler prided himself on the seaworthiness and fleetness of his
cutter, the saucy little _Moonbeam_. Not that she had been much to look
at, or much to sail either, when he took her over; for in those good old
times the Admiralty was not a whit more generous with paint and copper
nails than it is now. But One-legged Butler was a man of some means, who
might have driven his coach on shore had he not been so fond of the
brine and the breeze. So he had the _Moonbeam_ seen to at his own
expense--not without asking and receiving permission, of course, for he
was a strict-service man. Her bows were lengthened and her rig altered
and improved; she was made, in fact, quite a model of.

And Captain Butler was justly proud of the _Moonbeam_. So highly did he
regard her that he would not have marked her smooth and spotless deck
with his timber toe to obtain his promotion, and therefore his servant
had orders to always keep the end of that useful limb shod with softest
leather.

Nothing that ever sailed got the weather-gauge on the _Moonbeam_.

Except the _Brixham_.

That smuggling sloop landed many a fine bale of silk, hogshead of wine,
and tobacco galore, all along the south coast; but never had been
caught. She was a fly-by-night and a veritable phantom. Thrice Butler
had chased her. He might as well have attempted to overhaul a gull on
the wing.

But to-night One-legged Butler meant