drink it for you," replied Jerry,
ascending the ladder.

"Well, Mr G---, did you tell Mr Courtenay?" inquired Price.

"Yes, sir," replied Jerry.

"What did he say?"

"He said, `Pass the bottle, sir,'" replied Jerry, touching his hat, and
not changing a muscle of his countenance, although delighted with the
vexation that appeared in that of the tired lieutenant, as he walked
away forward.

For two or three days the frigate sailed between the islands, which
reared their lofty crests abruptly from the ocean, like the
embattlements of some vast castle which had been submerged to the
water's edge. Her progress was slow, as she was only indebted to the
land or sea breezes as they alternately blew, and was becalmed at the
close of the day, during the pause between their relieving each other
from their never-ceasing duty. Such was the situation of the _Aspasia_
on the evening of the third day. The scene was one of those splendid
panoramas which are only to be gazed upon in tropical climes. The sun
was near setting: and as he passed through the horizontal streaks of
vapour, fringed their narrow edges with a blaze of glory, strongly in
contrast with the deep blue of the zenith, reflected by the still wave
in every quarter, except where the descending orb poured down his volume
of rays, which changed the sea into an element of molten gold. The
frigate was lying motionless in the narrow channel between two of the
islands, the high mountains of which, in deep and solemn shade, were
reflected in lengthened shadows, extending to the vessel's sides, and,
looking downwards, you beheld the "mountains bowed." Many of the
officers were standing abaft admiring the beauty of the scene; but not
giving vent to their feelings, from an inward consciousness of inability
to do justice to it in their expressions.

Macallan first broke the silence. "Who would imagine, Courtenay, that,
ere yonder sun shall rise again, a hurricane may exhaust its rage upon a
spot so calm, so beautiful, as this, where all now seems to whisper
peace?"

The remark was followed by a noise like that proceeding from a distant
gun. "Is it pace you mane, doctor?" said one of the midshipmen, from
the sister kingdom. "By the powers, there's `war to the knife,'
already. Look," continued he, pointing with his finger in a direction
under the land, "there's a battle between the whale and the thrasher."

The remark of the midshipman was correct, and the whole pa