“Ay, I have seen him that is a true man, and him that is not,” replied Barnstable, bitterly; “you have the boy with you, Griffith--ask him what his young eyes have seen.” “Shall I!” cried the young midshipman, laughing; “then I have seen a little clipper, in disguise, out sail an old man-of-war's man in a hard chase, and I have seen a straggling rover in long-togs as much like my cousin----” “Peace, gabbler!” exclaimed Barnstable in a voice of thunder; “would you detain the boats with your silly nonsense at a time like this? Away into the barge, sir, and if you find him willing to hear, tell Mr. Griffith what your foolish conjectures amount to, at your leisure.” The boy stepped lightly from the whale-boat to the barge, whither the pilot had already preceded him, and, as he sunk, with a mortified air, by the side of Griffith, he said, in a low voice: “And that won't be long, I know, if Mr. Griffith thinks and feels on the coast of England as he thought and felt at home.” A silent pressure of his hand was the only reply that the young lieutenant made, before he paid the parting compliments to Barnstable, and directed his men to pull for their ship. The boats were separating, and the plash of the oars was already heard, when the voice of the pilot was for the first time raised in earnest. “Hold!” he cried; “hold water, I bid ye!” The men ceased their efforts at the commanding tones of his voice, and turning toward the whale-boat, he continued: “You will get your schooner under way immediately, Captain Barnstable, and sweep into the offing with as little delay as possible. Keep the ship well open from the northern headland, and as you pass us, come within hail.” “This is a clean chart and plain sailing, Mr. Pilot,” returned Barnstable; “but who is to justify my moving without orders, to Captain Munson? I have it in black and white, to run the Ariel into this feather-bed sort of a place, and I must at least have it by signal or word of mouth from my betters, before my cutwater curls another wave. The road may be as hard to find going out as it was coming in--and then I had daylight as well as your written directions to steer by.” “Would you lie there to perish on such a night?” said the pilot, sternly. “Two hours hence, this heavy swell will break where your vessel now rides so quietly.” “There we think exactly alike; but if I get drowned now, I am drowned according to orders; whereas, if I knock a plank out of the schooner's bottom, by following your directions, 'twill be a hole to let in mutiny, as well as sea-water. How do I know but the old man wants another pilot or two.” “That's philosophy,” muttered the cockswain of the whale-boat, in a voice that was audible: “but it's a hard strain on a man's conscience to hold on in such an anchorage!” “Then keep your anchor down, and follow it to the bottom,” said the pilot to himself; “it's worse to contend with a fool than a gale of wind; but if----”