About four o'clock, of a fine summer's afternoon, the Swash went through the Race, on the best of the ebb, and with a staggering south-west wind. Her movement by the land, just at that point, could not have been less than at the rate of fifteen miles in the hour. Spike was in high spirits, for his brig had got on famously that day, and there was nothing in sight to the eastward. He made no doubt, as he had told his mate, that the steamer had gone into the Vineyard Sound, and that she was bound over the shoals. “They want to make political capital out of her,” he added, using one of the slang phrases, that the “business habits” of the American people are so rapidly incorporating with the common language of the country--“They want to make political capital out of her, Harry, and must show her off to the Boston folk, who are full of notions. Well, let them turn her to as much account in that way as they please, so long as they keep her clear of the Molly. Your sarvant, Madam Budd”--addressing the widow, who just at that moment came on deck--“a fine a'ternoon, and likely to be a clear night to run off the coast in.” “Clear nights are desirable, and most of all at sea, Captain Spike,” returned the relict, in her best, complacent manner, “whether it be to run off a coast, or to run on a coast. In either case, a clear night, or a bright moon must be useful.” Captain Spike rolled his tobacco over in his mouth, and cast a furtive glance at the mate, but he did not presume to hazard any further manifestations of his disposition to laugh. “Yes, Madam Budd,” he answered, “it is quite as you say, and I am only surprised where you have picked up so much of what I call useful nautical knowledge.” “We live and learn, sir. You will recollect that this is not my first voyage, having made one before, and that I passed a happy, happy, thirty years, in the society of my poor, dear husband, Rose's uncle. One must have been dull, indeed, not to have picked up, from such a companion, much of a calling that was so dear to him, and the particulars of which were so very dear to him. He actually gave me lessons in the 'sea dialect,' as he called it, which probably is the true reason I am so accurate and general in my acquisitions.” “Yes, Madam Budd--yes--hem--you are--yes, you are wonderful in that way. We shall soon get an offing, now, Madam Budd--yes, soon get an offing, now.” “And take in our departure, Captain Spike--” added the widow, with a very intelligent smile. “Yes, take our departure. Montauk is yonder, just coming in sight; only some three hours' run from this spot. When we get there, the open ocean will lie before us; and give me the open sea, and I'll not call the king my uncle.” “Was he your uncle, Captain Spike?” “Only in a philanthropic way, Madam Budd. Yes, let us get a good offing, and a rapping to'gallant breeze, and I do not think I should care much for two of Uncle Sam's new-fashioned revenue craft, one on each side of me.”