“Look at that brigantine, whose delicate spars are almost confounded with the background of trees,” said the other, approaching the window, and directing the attention of his companion to the Cove: “’Tis the bark that has so often foiled the efforts of all thy cruisers, and which transports me and my wealth whither I will, without the fetters of arbitrary laws, and the meddling inquiries of venal hirelings. The scud, which floats above the sea, is not freer than that vessel, and scarcely more swift. Well is she named the Water-Witch! for her performances on the wide ocean have been such as seem to exceed all natural means. The froth of the sea does not dance more lightly above the waves, than yonder graceful fabric, when driven by the breeze. She is a thing to be loved, Ludlow; trust me, I never yet set affections on woman, with the warmth I feel for the faithful and beautiful machine!” “This is little more than any mariner could say, in praise of a vessel that he admired.” “Will you say it, sir, in favor of yon lumbering sloop of Queen Anne? Your Coquette is none of the fairest, and there was more of pretension than of truth, at her christening.” “By the title of my royal mistress, young beardless, but there is an insolence in this language, that might become him you wish to represent! My ship, heavy or light of foot, as she may be, is fated to bring yonder false trader to the judgment.” “By the craft and qualities of the Water-Witch! but this is language that might become one who was at liberty to act his pleasure,” returned the stranger tauntingly imitating the tone, in which his angry companion had spoken. “You would have proof of my identity: listen. There is one who vaunts his power, that forgets he is a dupe of my agent, and that even while his words are so full of boldness, he is a captive!” The brown cheek of Ludlow reddened, and he turned toward the lighter and far less vigorous frame of his companion, as if about to strike him to the earth, when a door opened, and Alida appeared in the saloon. The meeting, between the commander of the Coquette and his mistress, was not without embarrassment. The anger of the former and the confusion of the latter, for a moment, kept both silent; but as la belle Barbérie had not returned without an object, she was quick to speak. “I know not whether to approve, or to condemn, the boldness that has prompted Captain Ludlow to enter my pavilion, at this unseasonable hour, and in so unceremonious a manner,” she said, “for I am still ignorant of his motive. When he shall please to let me hear it, I may judge better of the merit of the excuse.” “True, we will hear his explanation before condemnation,” added the stranger, offering a seat to Alida, which she coldly declined. “Beyond a doubt the gentleman has a motive.” If looks could have destroyed, the speaker would have been annihilated. But as the lady seemed indifferent to the last remark, Ludlow prepared to enter on his vindication.