want with our excellent
captain--it can scarcely be one of the Montauk's crew!"

"I will answer for it, that the fellow has not enough seamanship
about him to whip a rope," said Paul, laughing; "for if there be two
temporal pursuits that have less affinity than any two others, they
are those of the pantry and the tar-bucket. I think it will be seen
that this man has been an English servant, and he has probably been a
passenger on board some ship commanded by our honest old friend."

Eve and Paul now turned, and they met Mr. Effingham and the captain
just as the two latter reached the spot where the stranger still
stood.

"This is Captain Truck, the gentleman for whom you inquired," said
Paul.

The stranger looked hard at the captain, and the captain looked hard
at the stranger, the obscurity rendering a pretty close scrutiny
necessary, to enable either to distinguish features. The examination
seemed to be mutually unsatisfactory, for each retired a little, like
a man who had not found a face that he knew.

"There must be two Captain Trucks, then, in the trade," said the
stranger; "this is not the gentleman I used to know."

"I think you are as right in the latter part of your remark, friend,
as you are wrong in the first," returned the captain. "Know you, I do
not, and yet there are no more two Captain Trucks in the English
trade, than there are two Miss Eve Effinghams, or two Mrs. Hawkers in
the universe. I am John Truck, and no other man of that name ever
sailed a ship between New York and England, in my day, at least."

"Did you ever command the Dawn, sir?"

"The Dawn! That I did; and the Regulus, and the Manhattan, and the
Wilful Girl, and the Deborah-Angelina, and the Sukey and Katy, which,
my dear young lady, I may say, was my first love. She was only a
fore-and-after, carrying no standing topsail, even, and we named her
after two of the river girls, who were flyers, in their way; at
least, I thought so then; though a man by sailing a packet comes to
alter his notions about men and things, or, for that matter, about
women and things, too. I got into a category, in that schooner, that
I never expect to see equalled; for I was driven ashore to windward
in her, which is gibberish to you, my dear young lady, but which Mr.
Powis will very well understand, though he may not be able to explain
it."

"I certainly know what you mean," said Paul, "though I confess I am
in a category, as well as the schooner, so