“He that knows how to face his enemies with spirit, may be accounted sufficiently bold; but he who braves the anger of his friends, is foolhardy.” “And he who does neither, is wiser than both,” rejoined the reckless hero of the sash. “Captain Ludlow, we meet on equal terms, at present, and the parley may be managed with some freedom.” “Equality is a word that ill applies to men of stations so different.” “Of our stations and duties it is not necessary to speak. I hope that, when the proper time shall come, both may be found ready to be at the first, and equal to discharge the last. But Captain Ludlow, backed by the broadside of the Coquette and the cross-fire of his marines, is not Captain Ludlow alone, on a sea bluff, with a crutch no better than his own arm, and a stout heart. As the first, he is like a spar supported by backstays and forestays, braces and standing rigging; while, as the latter, he is the stick, which keeps its head aloft by the soundness and quality of its timber. You have the appearance of one who can go alone, even though it blew heavier than at present, if one may judge of the force of the breeze, by the manner it presses on the sails of yonder boat in the bay.” “Yonder boat begins to feel the wind, truly!” said Ludlow, suddenly losing all other interest in the appearance of the periagua which held Alida and her friends, and which, at that instant, shot out from beneath the cover of the hill into the broad opening of Raritan bay. “What think you of the time, my friend? a man of your years should speak with knowledge of the weather.” “Women and winds are only understood, when fairly in motion,” returned he of the sash; “now, any mortal who consulted comfort and the skies, would have preferred a passage in Her Majesty’s ship Coquette, to one in yonder dancing periagua; and yet the fluttering silk we see, in the boat, tells us there is one who has thought otherwise.” “You are a man of singular intelligence,” cried Ludlow, again facing the intruder; “as well as one of singular———” “Effrontery,” rejoined the other, observing that the commander hesitated. Let the commissioned officer of the Queen speak boldly; I am no better than a top-man, or at most a quarter-master.” “I wish to say nothing disagreeable, but I find your knowledge of my offer to convey the lady and her friends to the residence of Alderman Van Beverout, a little surprising.” “And I see nothing to wonder at, in your offer to convey the lady anywhere, though the liberality to her friends is not an act of so clear explanation. When young men speak from the heart, their words are not uttered in whispers.” “Which would imply that you overheard our conversation. I believe it, for here is cover at hand to conceal you. It may be, sir, that you have eyes, as well as ears.”