ed slats on a white-painted rock sticking out of the water,
and there was a French packet lying to the other side. We had to go
between. I knew they were betting a hundred to one we'd hit one or the
other.

We weathered the packet and squeezed by the beacon. The end of our long
bowsprit did hit the white-painted slats, gave 'em a good healthy
wallop, but that wasn't any surprise--we figured on going close. We were
by and safe, and looking back from the wheel to mark her wake swashing
over the very rock itself, I had to whisper _to_ her:

"_Aurora_, girl, you're all I ever said you were." But if you'd seen
her, the big spars of her, the set of her rigging, the fine-fitting
sails, the beautiful line of the rail, and the straight flat deck, you'd
have to admit it wasn't any surprise. You couldn't 've done it with
every vessel--but the _Aurora!_ A great bit of wood, the _Aurora!_

And looking past her wake, I picked out Miller's motor boat along inside
the French gun-boat. But no gun-boat was worrying me then. They might
chase me, but the gun-boat wasn't afloat that could 've chased and
caught the _Aurora_ in that gale. A man didn't need to be a French
captain to know that.

But for fear they might chase us, I kept her going. And after we'd had
time to get our breath, we took a peek into her hold. And it was loaded
with cases--wine, brandy--liquors of all kinds. And the gang said: "How
about it, skipper?" And I said: "Help yourself--you've earned it," and
they helped themselves.

And they had their promised Christmas dinner. The turkey had only to be
warmed up. After it was warmed up, it was fine to hear Sam telling about
the recapturing of it. "He was in the kitchen--just been hauled out the
oven--and the chef, he was standing over him with a big carving knife,
when I spots the pair of 'em through the window. 'Stand by, fellows,' I
hollers, and jumps through the window and grabs the carving knife and
chases cheffie out the room with it. And back through the window comes
me and the turk. An' they all hollers murder and comes after us. And
look at him now! Twenty-five pounds he weighs--the biggest turkey, I'm
tellin' you, ever sailed out of ol' Saint Peer. A whale, twenty-five
pounds as he lies there. And four kinds of wine--four kinds. Cassie,
champagne, claret, which you don't have to drink 'less you want to, and
that red-colored wine I don't know the name of, but good stuff--I
sampled it. And that's what I call a Chr