th of practice, manage well to shape
their course without him, were moving now and managing themselves with
moderation.

The tone of the clouds was very mild, and so was the color of the sea. A
comely fog involved the day, and a decent mist restrained the night from
ostentatious waste of stars. It was not such very bad weather; but a
captious man might find fault with it, and only a thoroughly cheerful
one could enlarge upon its merits. Plainly enough these might be found
by anybody having any core of rest inside him, or any gift of turning
over upon a rigidly neutral side, and considerably outgazing the color
of his eyes.

Commander Nettlebones was not of poetic, philosophic, or vague mind.
"What a ----- fog!" he exclaimed in the morning; and he used the same
words in the afternoon, through a speaking-trumpet, as the two other
cutters ranged up within hail. This they did very carefully, at the
appointed rendezvous, toward the fall of the afternoon, and hauled their
wind under easy sail, shivering in the southwestern breeze.

"Not half so bad as it was," returned Bowler, being of a cheerful mind.
"It is lifting every minute, sir. Have you had sight of anything?"

"Not a blessed stick, except a fishing-boat. What makes you ask,
lieutenant?"

"Why, sir, as we rounded in, it lifted for a moment, and I saw a craft
some two leagues out, standing straight in for us."

"The devil you did! What was she like? and where away, lieutenant?"

"A heavy lugger, under all sail, about E.N.E, as near as may be. She is
standing for Robin Hood's Bay, I believe. In an hour's time she will be
upon us, if the weather keeps so thick."

"She may have seen you, and sheered off. Stand straight for her, as
nigh as you can guess. The fog is lifting, as you say. If you sight her,
signal instantly. Lieutenant Donovan, have you heard Bowler's news?"

"Sure an' if it wasn't for the fog, I would. Every word of it come to
me, as clear as seeing."

"Very well. Carry on a little to the south, half a league or so,
and then stand out, but keep within sound of signal. I shall bear up
presently. It is clearing every minute, and we must nab them."

The fog began to rise in loops and alleys, with the upward pressure of
the evening breeze, which freshened from the land in lines and patches,
according to the run of cliff. Here the water darkened with the ruffle
of the wind, and there it lay quiet, with a glassy shine, or gentle
shadows of variety. Soo