"That's right, my boy," said the old tar--"it's our duty to assist our fellow-men as much as is in our power--and never have I seed two persons whom I would be inclined to assist so much as that old man and his daughter." The wind, which had been favourable for them hitherto, now chopped about, by degrees, till at last it blew in a direction exactly opposite to their course. "This is unfortunate," said old Bill, as he gave his reluctant orders to alter the vessel's course, and to take in the studding-sails, which were hanging flapping in wild disorder, as the wind headed them. These, however, were speedily taken in, and the other evolutions performed, so as to enable the vessel to ply to windward. On the morning of the third day, the _Tweed_ was abreast of Boston Deeps, with the wind still at north-east. To leeward of her, about five miles, were the _Olive_ and the _Princess Charlotte_, the other two smacks. Tom had the watch on deck, and was steering the vessel--whilst the sailors were sitting forward on the windlass, with their hands across their breasts, and uttering, at intervals, a few words to each other. One man alone stood apart from the rest, upon the starboard quarter, who seemed, by his intense gaze, to be trying to make out some vessel at a distance. After gazing for a few moments, he took two or three hasty steps along the deck, and again came back to his place, and gave another look. At length, apparently not able to satisfy himself as to the object of his scrutiny, he came up to the companion, and took from thence the glass, which, having adjusted, he made a sweep across the horizon, till it bore upon the object of his search. "What do you see there?" asked Tom, of the sailor. "Something that I doesn't like," replied Bill Mossman; "I am much mistaken if there isn't a ship shaping a course to cut us off from the other smacks." The other sailors, hearing the conversation, now came aft, and took part in it. "Here," said Tom, "take the helm a moment, and give me the glass." Tom accordingly, seizing the glass, took a look at the vessel, and continued, for a few moments, silently scanning her, in spite of the interrogatories which were poured in upon him by the sailors, as to the appearance of the stranger. "Call up my father," were the first words of Tom; "I don't like the look of that vessel. Although she is at a great distance, yet I can make her out not to be a merchantman; and, besides, what does she mean by steering direct for us? Her movements are, at all events, suspicious." At this moment, old Bill came upon deck, and, after a scrutinizing glance through the glass, he ascended the rigging. There he had not continued long, when he bawled down to the deck, in a voice of thunder--"That he might be blowed if he didn't think that she was one of the rascally French privateers."