strangely vivid in the expression of a ship that it cannot be expressed in words, and I shall not try. At length Joe sang out, "I reckon that's the Galloper, skipper." "Right you are, chap! And what's that by the edge of the broken water? Wessel, I fancy." "'Tis a barque, skipper, and he's got 'em flyin'." The two men watched the vessel a long time, and they determined to run down on her as near as might be safe. As they drew on her it appeared that she was not actually hard-and-fast, but she was bumping apparently, and they guessed she had her anchors out. There is nothing in the way of close shaves that a smacksman will not venture, and the Esperanza was soon within speaking distance. "We have a pilot aboard!" sang out someone on deck. "A lightning sort of pilot to ram her nose on the Galloper!" growled the old skipper. "Do you want any assistance?" "Stand by for a bit and we'll see." So the Esperanza went to leeward of the shoal and hove-to. Presently the stranger signalled, "Come on board of us." Then Joe said, "That fellow's in a frap before his time, skipper. I believe she'll come off when the tide turns. If she does, and we have her in charge, that's a nice lump of money for all of us." "But how are we going to get to him?" "I'll go," said Joe. "Give me old Bill, and we'll take the boat down on him. You get the trawl warp ready, and we'll either tow him or steer him." "Right, chap; over with your boat, lads!" Then Bill lay down in the boat, Joe put an oar in the sculling-notch, and the little thing flew before wind and sea, while the smack drew off a little. Presently the bulge of the boat's bow glanced along the ship's side, and Joe flung his painter. Then a man clambered on to the rail, and Joe roared, "Where are you coming to?" "I'm the pilot, and I'm coming aboard of you." "That you're not, you blasted coward! Stay where you are, and we'll see if we can't save the wessel." But the pilot had lost his head. He got ready for a jump; the boat lifted, and he sprang; the backwash pushed her out, and the man's left foot only just touched the gunwale. He screamed like a woman, gripped vainly at the air, and rolled under. A sea drove his head against the ship's side; the boat swung with tremendous force. Scraunch! and the poor fellow was gone, with his head crushed like a walnut. Joe tried to grab him with the boathook, but it was useless, and the unhappy poltroon's body was whirled away. "Here's a nice go for a start! Up with you, Billy!"