“I never doubted the merits of Miss Plowden,” said the other, with a droll gravity that often mingled with his deeper feelings, the result of a sailor's habits, blended with native character. “But this indeed surpasses all my expectations! Why, she has, in truth, made a most judicious selection of phrases. 'No. 168. **** indelible;' '169. **** end only with life;' '170. **** I fear yours misleads me;' '171. ----'” “Pshaw!” exclaimed Barnstable, snatching the book from before the laughing eyes of Griffith; “what folly, to throw away our time now on such nonsense! What think you of this expedition to the land?” “That it may be the means of rescuing the ladies, though it fail in making the prisoners we anticipate.” “But this pilot! you remember that he holds us by our necks, and can run us all up to the yard-arm of some English ship, whenever he chooses to open his throat at their threats or bribes.” “It would have been better that he should have cast the ship ashore, when he had her entangled in the shoals; it would have been our last thought to suspect him of treachery then,” returned Griffith, “I follow him with confidence, and must believe that we are safer with him than we should be without him.” “Let him lead to the dwelling of his fox-hunting ministers of state,” cried Barnstable, thrusting his book of signals into his bosom: “but here is a chart that will show us the way to the port we wish to find. Let my foot once more touch terra firma, and you may write craven against my name, if that laughing vixen slips her cable before my eyes, and shoots into the wind's eye again like a flying-fish chased by a dolphin. Mr. Griffith, we must have the chaplain with us to the shore.” “The madness of love is driving you into the errors of the soldier. Would you lie by to hear sermons, with a flying party like ours?” “Nay, nay, we must lay to for nothing that is not unavoidable; but there are so many tacks in such a chase, when one has time to breathe, that we might as well spend our leisure in getting that fellow to splice us together. He has a handy way with a prayer book, and could do the job as well as a bishop; and I should like to be able to say, that this is the last time these two saucy names, which are written at the bottom of this letter, should ever be seen sailing in the company of each other.” “It will not do,” said his friend, shaking his head, and endeavoring to force a smile which his feelings suppressed; “it will not do, Richard; we must yield our own inclinations to the service of our country; nor is this pilot a man who will consent to be led from his purpose.”