"Hurrah!--here comes an owl-fish, I reckon;" shouted a merry wight of a tar, from the land of wooden nutmegs,--"specimen of the salt-water owl! Lord, look at his teeth--how he grins!--What are you laughing at, my beauty?" "Le diable! une chouette dans la mer?" exclaimed a little wizen-pated Frenchman, who had seated himself astraddle of the cathead.--"Vel, Monsieur Vagastafsh, comment nommez vous dish petit poisson?" "Poison! No, Monsheer, I rather guess there han't the least bit o' poison in natur about that ere _young shark_!" replied Wagstaff, "though for that matter a shark's worse'n poison." "I not mean poison--I say poisson--_fish_." "O, poison fish--yes, I know--you'll find plenty of them on the Bahamy copper banks. I always gets the cook to put a piece of silver in the boilers, when we grub on fish in them ere parts." "O, mon dieu! le rashcalle hash bitez mon vum almos' off! Sacré, vous ingrat, to treatez me so like, when I am feed you wis de bon dîner!" My attention was called away from this scene of hilarity, by the voice of the watch in the fore-top, announcing a sail in sight. A faint indefinable speck could be seen in the quarter designated, fluttering on the bosom of the blue sea like a drift of foam. With the aid of the glass we made it out to be the topsail of a schooner, so distant that her hull and lower sails were below the brim of the horizon. Her canvas had probably just been unloosed to the breeze, which was directly after seen roughening the face of the broad, smooth expanse as it swept down toward us. "That glass, Mr. Waters--she is standing toward us, and by the gods of war! the cut of her narrow flying royal, looks marvellously like that of our friend, the Sea-Sprite!" said the captain, while the blood flashed over his bald forehead, like 'heat lightning' over a summer cloud; "Mr. Hackinsack, see that every thing is ready for a chase." The broad sails were unloosed and sheeted close home. Directly the wind was with us, and we were bowling along under a press of canvas. "Now, quartermaster, look to your sails as closely, as you would watch one seeking your life." Another squint through the glass. "Ha! they have suspected us, and are standing in toward the land, jam on the wind;--let them look to it sharply; it must be a fleet pair of heels that can keep pace with the Dart,--though to say the least of yonder cruiser, she is no laggard!" After pacing the deck some ten minutes, he again hove short and lifted the glass to his eye. "By heavens! the little witch still holds her way with us!--Have the skysail set, and rig out the top-gallant-studd'n'sail!"