“Haul the spanker-boom to windward,” shouted the pilot; “lower away the boats, and tow the ship’s head round—clear away the stream anchor—aft gib-sheet—board main tack, again.” The astonished men stood like statues, not knowing whither to turn, some calling to the rest to do this or that, and some as loudly countermanding the order; when an authoritative voice was heard calmly to say,— “Silence in the ship.” The tones-were of that sort which, while they denote the self-possession of the speaker, never fail to inspire the inferior with a portion of the confidence of him who commands. Every face was turned towards the quarter of the vessel whence the sound proceeded, as if each ear was ready to catch the smallest additional mandate. Wilder was standing on the head of the capstan, where he could command a full view on every side of him. With a quiet and understanding glance, he had made himself a perfect master of the situation of his ship. His eye was at the instant fixed anxiously on the slaver, as if it would pierce the treacherous calm which still reigned on all about her, in order to know how far his exertions might be permitted to be useful. But it appeared as if the stranger lay like some enchanted vessel on the water, not a human form even appearing about all her complicated machinery, except the seaman already named, who still continued his employment, as though the “Caroline” was not within a hundred miles of the place where he sat. The lips of Wilder moved: it might be in bitterness; it might be in satisfaction; for, a smile of the most equivocal nature lighted his features, as he continued, in the same deep, commanding voice as before,— “Throw all aback—lay every thing flat to the masts, forward and aft.” “Ay!” echoed the pilot, “lay every thing flat to the masts.” “Is there a shove-boat alongside the ship?” demanded our adventurer. The answer, from a dozen voices, was in the affirmative. “Show that pilot into her.” “This is an unlawful order,” exclaimed the other, “and I forbid any voice but mine to be obeyed.” “_Throw_ him in,” sternly repeated Wilder. Amid the bustle and exertion of bracing round the yards, the resistance of the pilot produced little or no sensation. He was soon raised on the extended arms of the two mates; and, after exhibiting his limbs in sundry contortions in the air, he was dropped into the boat, with as little ceremony as though he had been a billet of wood. The end of the painter was cast after him; and then the discomfited guide was left, with singular indifference, to his own meditations.