“Nothing less; and though the opinion of a fore-mast Jack may be of little value, you will not be displeased to hear, that I might look further without finding a prettier sea-boat, or a swifter, than the one which sails under your own orders. A seaman of your station, Captain Ludlow, is not now to learn, that a man speaks differently, while his name is his own, and after he has given it away to the crown; and therefore I hope my present freedom will not be long remembered.” “I have met men of your humor before, my friend, and I have not now to learn, that a thorough man-of-war’s man is as impudent on shore, as he is obedient afloat.—Is that a sail, in the offing, or is it the wing of a sea-fowl, glittering in the sun?” “It may be either,” observed the audacious mariner, turning his eye leisurely towards the open ocean, “for we have a wide look-out from this windy bluff. Here are gulls sporting above the waves, that turn their feathers towards the light.” “Look more seaward. That spot of shining white should be the canvas of some craft, hovering in the offing!” “Nothing more probable, in so light a breeze. Your coasters are in and out, like water-rats on a wharf, at any hour of the twenty-four—and yet to me it seems the comb of a breaking sea.” “’Tis snow-white duck; such as your swift rover wears on his loftier spars!” “A duck that is flown,” returned the stranger drily, “for it is no longer to be seen. These fly-aways, Captain Ludlow, give us seamen many sleepless nights and idle chases. I was once running down the coast of Italy, between the island of Corsica and the main, when one of these delusions beset the crew, in a manner that hath taught me to put little faith in eyes, unless backed by a clear horizon and a cool head.” “I’ll hear the circumstance,” said Ludlow, withdrawing his gaze from the distant ocean, like one who was satisfied his senses had been deceived. “What of this marvel of the Italian seas?”