"A mariner."
"His name?"
"Wait!" and the pilot luffed till the sails shook. A peculiar vibration passed throughout the lugger's timbers, and her way was gently arrested.
"We're aground! You have failed!" cried the captain, and drew a pistol from his belt.
"Wait!" And again the pilot spoke in cold, disdainful tones. One might have counted a hundred. It was terrible suspense. The captain's finger was toying with the trigger of his pistol. The pilot stood immovable, the disdainful smile deepening upon his lips. "Ease off the main-sheet!" cried he, as he turned his ear to windward. There came a stronger puff of wind, a bigger wave rolled up under the lugger's stern, she lifted, and immediately glided forward—free!
"You lost your reckoning, my lad!" cried the captain.
"A slight error of judgment. The tide has made somewhat less than I anticipated."
"What is our position?"
"We scraped on the Sandstone Ledge," grimly. "'Twas a close shave—for me!"
"And did you doubt——"