The sailors and Captain Pickersgill all rose and went to the window, to ascertain Corbett's fortune by this new species of augury. The blue pigeon flapped his wings, and then he sidled up to the white one; at last, the white pigeon flew off the wall and settled on the roof of the adjacent house. "Bravo, white pigeon!" said Corbett; "I shall be here again in a week." The whole party, laughing, then resumed their seats; and Morrison's countenance brightened up. As he took the glass of wine poured out by Pickersgill, he said, "Here's your health, Corbett; it was all nonsense, after all--for, d'ye see, I can't be put in jail, without you are. We all sail in the same boat, and when you leave me you take with you everything that can condemn the vessel--so here's success to our trip." "We will all drink that toast, my lads, and then on board," said the captain; "here's success to our trip." The captain rose, as did the mates and men, drank the toast, turned down the drinking-vessels on the table, hastened to the wharf, and, in half an hour, the _Happy-go-lucky_ was clear of the port of Saint Malo. CHAPTER FOUR. PORTLAND BILL. The _Happy-go-lucky_ sailed with a fresh breeze and a flowing sheet from Saint Malo, the evening before the _Arrow_ sailed from Barn Pool. The _Active_ sailed from Portsmouth the morning after. The yacht, as we before observed, was bound to Cowes, in the Isle of Wight. The _Active_ had orders to cruise wherever she pleased within the limits of the admiral's station; and she ran for West Bay, on the other side of the Bill of Portland. The _Happy-go-lucky_ was also bound for that bay to land her cargo. The wind was light, and there was every appearance of fine weather, when the _Happy-go-lucky_, at ten o'clock on the Tuesday night, made the Portland lights; as it was impossible to run her cargo that night, she hove to. At eleven o'clock the Portland lights were made by the revenue-cutter _Active_. Mr Appleboy went up to have a look at them, ordered the cutter to be hove to, and then went down to finish his allowance of gin-toddy. At twelve o'clock, the yacht _Arrow_ made the Portland lights, and continued her course, hardly stemming the ebb tide. Day broke, and the horizon was clear. The first on the look-out were, of course, the smugglers; they, and those on board the revenue-cutter, were the only two interested parties--the yacht was neuter. "There are two cutters in sight, sir," said Corbett, who had the watch; for Pickersgill, having been up the whole night, had thrown himself down on the bed with his clothes on. "What do they look like?" said Pickersgill, who was up in a moment. "One is a yacht, and the other may be; but I rather think, as far as I can judge in the grey, that it is our old friend off here." "What! Old Appleboy?" "Yes, it looks like him; but the day has scarcely broke yet."