"I won't do anything of the kind, Miss Tiffany," I replied, with a laugh. "I shall not drown myself for the sake of drowning you, I am very sure. Mr. Washburn!"
"On deck, sir."
"Set the fore to'gallant sail."
"Ay, ay, sir," chuckled the mate, who understood that I meant business by this time.
"Pray, which is the fore top-gallant sail, Captain Alick?" asked Miss Margie.
"It is the highest sail we set on the foremast, though larger vessels have a royal above that, then a skysail," I replied. "Mr. Washburn!"
"On deck, sir."
"Now give us the fore squaresail, and run up the jib."
The last order was to set the main gaff-topsail; and then we had all sail on. We turned the bend of the river just after the last sail had been set, which gave us the wind over the starboard quarter. I was confident we were making twelve knots an hour, and the skilful firing of Philander Perkins soon made her do even better than this. The water fairly roared at the bow as the vessel cut through it. The young ladies in the pilot-house ceased to talk, and Miss Margie held on at the wheel with both hands. It was lively sailing, but there was no danger, and I told the fair maiden so many times.
