“It is settled, then, uncle?” “Settled!” “Shall it be kept quiet?” “Yes; better so.” And this is how it was that five months later the steamer “Dolphin” was launched from the Kelvin Dock timber-yards, and no one knew her real destination. CHAPTER II. “GETTING UNDER SAIL.” The “Dolphin” was rapidly equipped, her rigging was ready, and there was nothing to do but fit her up. She carried three schooner-masts, an almost useless luxury; in fact, the “Dolphin” did not rely on the wind to escape the Federalists, but rather on her powerful engines. Towards the end of December a trial of the steamer was made in the gulf of the Clyde. Which was the most satisfied, builder or captain, it is impossible to say. The new steamer shot along wonderfully, and the patent log showed a speed of seventeen miles an hour, a speed which as yet no English, French, or American boat had ever obtained. The “Dolphin” would certainly have gained by several lengths in a sailing match with the fastest opponent. The loading was begun on the 25th of December, the steamer having ranged along the steamboat-quay a little below Glasgow Bridge, the last which stretches across the Clyde before its mouth. Here the wharfs were heaped with a heavy cargo of clothes, ammunition, and provisions, which were rapidly carried to the hold of the “Dolphin.” The nature of this cargo betrayed the mysterious destination of the ship, and the house of Playfair could no longer keep it secret; besides, the “Dolphin” must not be long before she started. No American cruiser had been signalled in English waters; and, then, when the question of getting the crew came, how was it possible to keep silent any longer? They could not embark them even, without informing the men whither they were bound, for, after all, it was a matter of life and death, and when one risks one’s life, at least it is satisfactory to know how and wherefore. However, this prospect hindered no one; the pay was good, and every one had a share in the speculation, so that a great number of the finest sailors soon presented themselves. James Playfair was only embarrassed which to choose, but he chose well, and in twenty-four hours his muster-roll bore the names of thirty sailors, who would have done honour to her Majesty’s yacht. The departure was settled for the 3rd of January; on the 31st of December the “Dolphin” was ready, her hold full of ammunition and provisions, and nothing was keeping her now. The skipper went on board on the 2nd of January, and was giving a last look round his ship with a Captain’s eye, when a man presented himself at the fore part of the “Dolphin,” and asked to speak with the Captain. One of the sailors led him on to the poop.