“They are not fishermen,” put in the boy; “they are sailors--coastguard men, likely.” “Besides,” said Mr. Talboys, “your uncle would run down to us at once, but these keep waiting on us and dogging us. Confound their impudence.” “It is all fancy,” said Lucy; “run away as fast as you can that way,” and she pointed down the wind, “and you will see nobody will take the trouble to run after us.” “Hoist the mainsail,” cried Talboys. They had hitherto been sailing under the foresail only. In another minute they were running furiously before the wind with both sails set. The boat yawed, and Lucy began to be nervous; still, the increased rapidity of motion excited her agreeably. The lateen-schooner, sailing under her fore-sail only, luffed directly and stood on in the lugger's wake. Lucy's cheek burned, but she said nothing. “There,” cried Talboys, “now do you believe me? I think we gain on her, though.” “We are going three knots to her two, sir,” said the old man, “but it is by her good will; that is the fastest boat in the town, sailing on a wind; at beating to windward we could tackle her easy enough, but not at running free. Ah! there goes her mainsel up; I thought she would not be long before she gave us that.” “Oh, how beautiful!” cried Lucy; “it is like a falcon or an eagle sailing down on us; it seems all wings. Why don't we spread wings too and fly away?” “You see, miss,” explained the boatman, “that schooner works her sails different from us; going down wind she can carry her mainsel on one side of the craft and her foresel on the other. By that she keeps on an even keel, and, what is more, her mainsel does not take the wind out of her foresel. Bless you, that little schooner would run past the fastest frigate in the king's service with the wind dead aft as we have got it now; she is coming up with us hand over head, and as stiff on her keel as a rock; this is her point of sailing, beating to windward is ours. Why, if they ain't reefing the foresel, to make the race even; and there go three reefs into her mainsel too.” The old boatman scratched his head. “Who is aboard her, Dick? they are strangers to me.” By taking in so many reefs the lateen had lowered her rate of sailing, and she now followed in their wake, keeping a quarter of a mile to windward. Talboys lost all patience. “Who is it, I wonder, that has the insolence to dog us so?” and he looked keenly at Miss Fountain. She did not think herself bound to reply, and gazed with a superior air of indifference on the sky and the water. “I will soon know,” said Talboys. “What does it matter?” inquired Lucy. “Probably somebody who is wasting his time as we are.”