I had turned into my berth, after keeping the morning watch some days after this, when, as I awoke, I saw Tom Rockets moving about in the cabin. "What do you want, Tom?" I asked. "Hist, sir," he whispered, "I've just a word to speak to you." "Out with it then, my man," I said. "It's just about that strange skipper, sir." "Well, go on." "He's been talking to me, and asking if I wouldn't like to go and settle in a land of liberty, and make my fortune, and no longer be subject to be starved and flogged and ill-treated on board of a man-of-war?" "And what did you say, Tom?" I asked. "I told him just simply like that I belonged to you, that I would follow wheresoever you went, and that if you thought fit to go and settle in his country, I'd have no objection to go too." "That was right, Tom. If he speaks to you again, give him the same sort of answer. Don't let him suppose you are offended. Has he spoken with either of the other men?" "With all except Grampus; but I don't think he has made much way with them. The old man, I fancy, sir, guesses what he's after, and has his eye on him," answered Tom. "All right, then, my lad. Keep your eyes about you, and let me know any thing you observe, but don't allow the skipper to find out that we suspect him." Tom promised to follow my directions, and I sent him on deck while I turned out and dressed. I treated Mr Scuttle just as if he were not plotting against me, for forewarned, I felt myself fore-armed, and had no fear that he could do me any harm. That day the wind fell considerably and we again had fair weather. The next morning, while I was at breakfast, old Nol hailed down the sky-light-- "Would you just come on deck for a moment, sir?" said he. "What is it?" I asked. "There's a sail away to the south-west, and I don't quite like the looks of her," answered the old man. I jumped on deck in a moment. I was not long in making out a brig under all sail holding the same course we were on. As I took the glass from my eye I found Scuttle standing by my side. "What do you think of her?" I asked. "Maybe she's a whaler, or maybe a sealer, or a merchantman from one of the provincial ports, or maybe a transport with British red-coats aboard; but, Mr Hurry, it requires a man with a longer sight than I've got to tell just now what she is," said the skipper, in the long drawling tone of a New Englander. I thought that there was something ironical in his tone as he spoke, and that he more than probably knew perfectly well all about the stranger. "Whatever she may be," I answered, "I'll show her my heels. Make all sail, Grampus."