“There is a mingling of the terrific and the beautiful, of the grand and the seducing, in this unquiet profession of yours!” observed, or rather continued Alida, replying to a previous remark of the young sailor. “That tranquil sea—the hollow sound of the surf on the shore—and this soft canopy above us form objects on which even a girl might dwell in admiration, were not her ears still ringing with the roar and cries of the combat. Did you say the commander of the Frenchman was but a youth?” “A mere boy in appearance, and one who doubtless owed his rank to the advantages of birth and family. We know it to be the captain, by his dress, no less than by the desperate effort he made to recover the false step taken in the earlier part of the action.” “Perhaps he has a mother, Ludlow!—a sister—a wife—or——” Alida paused, for, with maiden diffidence, she hesitated to pronounce the tie which was uppermost in her thoughts. “He may have had one, or all! Such are the sailor’s hazards, and——” “Such the hazards of those who feel an interest in their safety!” uttered the low but expressive voice of Seadrift. A deep and eloquent silence succeeded. Then the voice of Myndert was heard muttering indistinctly, “twenty of beaver, and three of marten—as per invoice.” The smile which, spite of the train of his thoughts, rose on the lips of Ludlow, had scarcely passed away, when the hoarse tones of Trysail, rendered still hoarser by his sleep, were plainly heard in a stifled cry, saying, “Bear a hand, there, with your stoppers!—the Frenchman is coming round upon us, again.” “That is prophetic!” said one, aloud, behind the listening group. Ludlow turned, quick as the flag fluttering on its vane, and through the darkness he recognized, in the motionless but manly form that stood near him on the poop, the fine person of the ‘Skimmer of the Seas.’ “Call away——!” “Call none!”—interrupted Tiller, stopping the hurried order which involuntarily broke from the lips of Ludlow. “Let thy ship feign the silence of a wreck, but, in truth, let there be watchfulness and preparation even to her store-rooms! You have done well, Captain Ludlow, to be on the alert, though I have known sharper eyes than those of some of your look-outs.” “Whence come you, audacious man, and what mad errand has brought you again on the deck of my ship?” “I come from my habitation on the sea. My business here is warning!” “The sea!” echoed Ludlow, gazing about him at the narrow and empty view. “The hour for mockery is past, and you would do well to trifle no more with those who have serious duties to discharge.” “The hour is indeed one for serious duties—duties, more serious than any you apprehend. But before I enter on explanation, there must be conditions between us. You have one of the sea-green lady’s servitors, here; I claim his liberty, for my secret.”