the other side, and made her out again under the awning on the opposite beam. At length she lifted broad to us for a moment or two, showing a long pale sort of hull with a red streak, apparently without ports, and brig-rigged, though the space betwixt her two masts was curious for that kind of craft. "'Wonderful light-sparred for her size that brig, sir,' said the third officer, dropping his glass. 'Ay, so she is, Mr Small,' replied Captain Williamson; 'what would you call her then? You've as good knowledge of craft as any man, Mr Small, I think.' 'Why,' said the old mate, screwing his eye harder for a long look, 'I'd say she's--not a cruiser, Captain Williamson--no, nor a Greenock Indyman--nor a----' 'Oh!' said Finch, 'some African timberer or other, I daresay, Small.' 'Well, Mr Finch,' said the third mate, handing him the glass, 'mayhap you'll just say yourself, sir.' 'No, no, Mr Small,' said the captain; 'I'd trust to you as soon as any man, sir, in a matter of the kind.' 'Why, the hull of her's wonderful Yankee-like, sir,' said Small again; 'I'm thinking they've been and _squared_ her out of a schooner--and made a bad job of it too, sir! Bless us! what a lean-headed pair o' taups'ls--as high as our fore one, sir.' Suddenly the old mate gave his thigh a slap, and laid down his glass on the capstan; 'Lor', sir!' said he, 'that's the thing; she's nothing more nor less but a John Crapeau, Captain Williamson!' "'I daresay you're right, Mr Small,' said the skipper, taking the glass; 'just so--ay, ay--I thought it myself!' 'Pity Old Nap's boxed up yonder nowadays, then, sir,' said the first officer, rubbing his hands and pointing to eastward, where he thought St Helena was; 'why, sir, we should have the peppering of the Frenchman; I don't suppose we'd need to care though she were twice the size--and what's more, we want fresh water before seeing the Cape, sir!' 'Well,' said the old skipper, laughing, 'that is the worst of it, Finch! As for spirit, you've as much as any man, Mr Finch, and I _do_ think we'd know how to take the weather-hand of him--eh?' 'I'll be bound we should!' said Finch, laughing too. As for the Frenchman, both Westwood and I had made him out by his rig at once, thanks to man-o'-war practice; but we smiled to each other at the notion of making a prize of Monsieur, under Finch's management, with not a gun that could have been used for half a day, and everything else at sixes and sevens.