"I was not ignorant of the danger at any time, Captain Horton."
"Well, you are a brave girl, and deserve to be a sailor's wife, but I'm married myself."
"That is unfortunate, captain," said Julia, with a merry laugh, so musical in its intonations that the rough sailors who heard its sweet cadence could not resist the contagion, and a bright smile lit up each weather-beaten countenance within the sound of the merry music.
"Well, I think so myself, though I wouldn't like Mrs. Horton to hear me say it, or I should have a rougher breeze to encounter than I ever met round Cape Horn—ha! ha! ha! You must excuse me, Miss Julia, but I feel in fine spirits this morning, not a sail in sight."
"Sail ho!" shouted the look-out from the main cross-trees.
"Ah!—where away?"
"Can it be that they have got in our wake again. I'll mount to the mast-head and see myself."
Seizing the glass the captain ascended to the cross-trees, where he remained for a long time, watching the distant sail. At length he returned to the deck.
"They've got our bearings again somehow, confound the cunning rascals; and, by the way they are overhauling us, I judge they can beat us as well afore the wind as on a tack."