Cringle's Log." The story appeared anonymously
at intermittent intervals in "Blackwood's Magazine" (1829-33),
being published in book form in 1834. Its authorship was
attributed, among others, to Captain Marryatt, and so
successfully did Scott himself conceal his identity with it
that the secret was not known until after his death, which
occurred at Glasgow on November 7, 1835. Of its kind, "Tom
Cringle's Log" is a veritable masterpiece. Humour and pathos
and gorgeous descriptions are woven into a thrilling
narrative. Scott wrote many other things beside "Tom Cringle,"
but only one story, "The Cruise of the Midge" (1836), is in
any way comparable with his first and most famous romance.

_I.--The Quenching of the Torch_

The evening was closing in dark and rainy, with every appearance of a
gale from the westward, and the red and level rays of the setting sun
flashed on the black hull and tall spars of his Britannic Majesty's
sloop Torch. At the distance of a mile or more lay a long,
warlike-looking craft, rolling heavily and silently in the trough of the
sea.

A flash was seen; the shot fell short, but close to us, evidently thrown
from a heavy cannon.

Mr. Splinter, the first lieutenant, jumped from the gun he stood on, and
dived into the cabin to make his report.

Captain Deadeye was a staid, wall-eyed veteran, with his coat of a
regular Rodney cut, broad skirts, long waist, and stand-up collar, over
which dangled either a queue, or marlinspike with a tuft of oakum at the
end of it--it would have puzzled old Nick to say which. His lower spars
were cased in tight unmentionables of what had once been white
kerseymere, and long boots, the coal-scuttle tops of which served as
scuppers to carry off the drainings from his coat-flaps in bad weather;
he was, in fact, the "last of the sea-monsters," but, like all his
tribe, as brave as steel, and, when put to it, as alert as a cat.

He no sooner heard Splinter's report, than he sprang up the ladder.

"Clear away the larboard guns!" I absolutely jumped off the deck with
astonishment--who could have spoken it? The enemy was a heavy American
frigate, and it appeared such downright madness to show fight under the
very muzzles of her guns, half a broadside from which was sufficient to
sink us. It was the captain, however, and there was nothing for it but
to obey.

"Now, men, mind your aim; our only chance is to wi