Poor little Wave! she was not accustomed to be lying in harbour when her sister craft were under weigh. One might have fancied that, with a sentiment of desolation, she allowed her burgee to droop listlessly, flapping it against her mast, as a bird makes sorrowful action with her wings. It did seem too bad to sell her;--and again I went over in my mind the bargain I had driven, and the price I had taken for her. After all, the conclusion was unavoidable, that I could not take her with me,--and, besides, I was going where could not use her. All the rest of the fellows had started, and already were hidden from us, as we then stood, round the rocky point. There was no one to hail for a dingy, and we were beholden to a dusky gentleman in a country boat for a passage alongside. We had a job to get the anchor up; for it had so happened that when last we came in all the buoys were occupied, and as I had little idea of wanting to use her again, I had let go her anchor. When we were fairly under weigh, I began to look a little into our capabilities. She had been sold "all standing," so that the general complexion of her gear was much what it had been under my catering. But there were already some symptoms of a change of masters. The sail locker was empty; and I remembered that her old suit had been exempted from the general bill of sale, and made over as a legacy to old Pierre. He had walked off with them; and thus we were left with no second suit of sails in case of accident. Those on deck were all she had to show. However, this deficiency was far from causing me any alarm; nothing in the way of sea accident seemed less probable than that we should carry away any of her rags that day. We were going, merely for easy locomotion, amidst a fry of small craft, some of whom would be sure to lend us whatever by any accident we might want. My present mate, moreover, had a special objection to "carrying on." There was a convention between us, by virtue of which it was understood that whenever he came with me, we were to slope along on an even keel. His apprehension of disaster comprehended nothing but fear of a capsize from carrying too much sail. I think he would have preferred going unprovided as we were, to leaving it in my power to make sail in case of accidents. All he realised was, that without sail a craft would not "turn the turtle;" and as to her fetching port, he had in this particular a blind confidence in the skill of his skipper for the time being.