“Suddenly a man on the fokstle exclaimed ‘Sail, O!’ Farmer started from his reverie, and every limb of his body was for an instant palsied; whilst the seamen, as if struck by an enchanter’s wand, stood motionless and still. ‘Sail, O!’ repeated the man. It aroused them from their stupor; a thousand sickly apprehensions rushed upon their minds, and all was instantly bustle and alarm. Farmer walked forward, and then hailed one of the quarter-masters to bring him the glass out of the cabin. The glass was brought,--it was the captain’s; and as he took it in his hand, it was plainly seen by the quick changes of his countenance, that there was a tempest in his soul. “The sail was now distinctly visible about two points on the larboard beam, her hull rising from the water, and her masts showing she was a ship, whilst their position indicated she was crossing the frigate’s track. Farmer raised the glass to his eye; there was a breathless silence fore-and-aft. His look was long and earnest; not a muscle of his features moved, his very pulsation seemed to be suspended: at last, he gave a shivering gasp, and drew his breath convulsively. The coxswain approached, and took his spell at the glass, but his glance was only momentary; he returned it to Farmer. They looked in each other’s face, but neither spoke his thoughts. “‘Bring Mr. Southcott on deck,’ exclaimed Farmer, ‘and see that he is well guarded.’ “In a few minutes Mr. Southcott, the master, was brought on to the fokstle, between two seamen with naked cutlasses and loaded pistols. The undaunted officer, expecting that the hour of his death had arrived, stood firm and erect in front of the mutineer, and his steady gaze fixed so intently upon him, that Farmer shrunk from before it. At length the latter said, ‘No harm is meant you, Mr. Southcott; but have the goodness to take the glass, and tell me what you make out yon ship to be,’ pointing towards it. “‘Is there a sail?’ exclaimed the master. ‘Ay, I see it;--thank Heaven!’ and he took the glass. “‘Her yards show square,’ said Farmer. “‘They do,’ replied the master; ‘but the merchantmen now spread a broad cloth in these seas.’ “‘She has a middle and a royal stay-sail set,’ continued Farmer. The master assented. “‘She is carrying every thing that can draw a cap-full of wind,’ said Farmer. “‘She is so,’ replied the master; ‘but West-Indiamen have many flying kites nowadays.’ “‘Mr. Southcott,’ exclaimed Farmer in his harsh hoarse voice, ‘you know that yon hooker is no West-Indiaman. You would deceive me, sir--That new cloth in the main-top-sail, that milk-white flying jib, and the cloud of canvass that flutters from the main-yard tell me that it is the----’ “‘What?’ exclaimed the master, suddenly starting from the recumbent posture in which he had been looking at the ship, and again fixing his eyes upon his traitorous mate. “‘Sail, O!’ shouted a man from the starboard cat-head; ‘a brig under the land, and a ship in-shore of her.’