“La mèr, Monsieur le Capitaine,” he said, with an acknowledging reverence, “est un vaste théâtre de la gloire. Voilà Messieurs de Tourville et Dougay Trouin; ce sont des hommes, vraiment remarquables! mais Monsieur, quant à toute la famille de Barbérie, we have toujours un sentiment plus favorable pour la terre.” “I wish your whimsical jade of a mistress, Master François, had found the same sentiment,” dryly observed Myndert: “for let me tell you, this cruising about in a suspicious vessel is as little creditable to her judgment as—cheer up, Patroon; the girl is only putting thy mettle to the trial, and the sea air will do no damage to her complexion or her pocket. A little predilection for salt water must raise the girl in your estimation, Captain Ludlow!” “If the predilection goes no further than to the element, sir;” was the caustic answer. “But, deluded or not, erring or deceived, Alida Barbérie is not to be deserted, the victim of a villain’s arts. I did love your niece, Mr. Van Beverout, and—pull with a will, men; fellows, are you sleeping on the oars?” The sudden manner in which the young man interrupted himself, and the depth of tone in which he spoke to the boat’s crew, put an end to the discourse. It was apparent that he wished to say no more, and that he even regretted the weakness which had induced him to say so much. The remainder of the distance, between the shore and the ship, was passed in silence. When Queen Anne’s cruiser was seen doubling Sandy-Hook, past meridian on the 6th June (sea-time) in the year 17—, the wind, as stated in an ancient journal, which was kept by one of the midshipmen, and is still in existence, was light, steady at south, and by west-half-west. It appears, by the same document, that the vessel took her departure at seven o’clock, P.M., the point of Sandy-Hook bearing west-half-south, distant three leagues. On the same page which contains these particulars, it is observed, under the head of remarks—“Ship under starboard steering-sails, forward and aft, making six knots. A suspicious half-rigged brigantine lying-to on the eastern board, under her mainsail, with fore-top-sail to the mast; light and lofty sails and jib loose; foresail in the brails. Her starboard steering-sail-booms appear to be rigged out, and the gear rove, ready for a run. This vessel is supposed to be the celebrated hermaphrodite, the Water-Witch, commanded by the notorious ‘Skimmer of the Seas,’ and the same fellow who gave us so queer a slip, yesterday. The Lord send us a cap-full of wind, and we’ll try his heels, before morning!—Passengers, Alderman Van Beverout, of the second ward of the City of New-York, in Her Majesty’s province of the same name; Oloff Van Staats, Esq. commonly called the Patroon of Kinderhook, of the same colony; and a qualmish-looking old chap, in a sort of marine’s jacket, who answers when hailed as Francis. A rum set taken altogether, though they seem to suit the Captain’s fancy.