Though black and sombre, with nothing light about her save her copper, which shone brightly as burnished gold in the clear and starlit sea, she was a beautiful little vessel; and Hartly almost sighed on thinking that he was about to destroy instead of capturing her.
"She is a lovely craft!" said he, "sharp at the bows as a needle below the water-line, clear at the counter, and coppered to the bends. What a glorious yacht she would make!"
"In sheering alongside, take care, sir, they don't scuttle us—by a cold shot, or a large stone," said Hammer.
"Well," replied Hartly, "my friend the Greenland witch said I should never drown; but that does not prevent me from being shot, or hung from the schooner's topsail yard."
As we pulled round across her bows to starboard, keeping pretty well off, we were hailed again.
"Boat—boat ahoy! what are you?"
"Fishermen," replied Hartly.
"From where?"
"La Scie, where all your fellows are enjoying themselves."
"Got any feesh?" asked a Frenchman.