“Not I, not I, man.  Though a magistrate, the oath is informal, and would not be binding in law.  But what do you know of the person in question?”

“That he is as good a seaman, for his years, as any in the colonies.  There may be some of more practice and greater experience; I dare say such are to be found; but as to activity, watchfulness, and prudence, it would be hard to find his equal—­especially for prudence.”

“You then are quite certain that this person is the individual named in these papers?”

Joram received the certificates with the same admirable coolness he had maintained from the commencement and prepared to read them with the most scrupulous care.  In order to effect this necessary operation, he had to put on his spectacles, (for the landlord of the “Foul Anchor” was in the wane of life), and Wilder fancied that he stood, during the process, a notable example of how respectable depravity may become, in appearance, when supported by a reverend air.

“This is all very true, Mr Bale,” continued the publican, removing his glasses, and returning the papers.  “They have forgotten to say any thing of the manner in which he saved the ‘Lively Nancy,’ off Hatteras, and how he run the ‘Peggy and Dolly’ over the Savannah bar, without a pilot, blowing great guns from the northward and eastward at the time; but I, who followed the water, as you know, in my younger days, have often heard both circumstances mentioned among sea-faring men, and I am a judge of the difficulty.  I have an interest in this ship, neighbour Bale, (for though a rich man, and I a poor one, we are nevertheless neighbours)—­I say I have an interest in this ship; since she is a vessel that seldom quits Newport without leaving something to jingle in my pocket, or I should not be here to-day, to see her lift her anchor.”

As the publican concluded, he gave audible evidence that his visit had not gone unrewarded, by raising a music that was no less agreeable to the ears of the thrifty merchant than to his own.  The two worthies laughed in an understanding way, and like two men who had found a particular profit in their intercourse with the “Royal Caroline.”  The latter then beckoned Wilder apart, and, after a little further preliminary discourse, the terms of the young mariner’s engagement were finally settled.  The true Master of the ship was to remain on board, both as a security for the insurance, and in order to preserve her reputation; but it was frankly admitted that his hurt, which was no less than a broken leg, and which the surgeons were then setting, would probably keep him below for a month to come.  During the time he was kept from his duty, his functions were to be filled, in effect, by our adventurer.  These arrangements occupied another hour of time, and then the consignee left the vessel, perfectly satisfied with the prudent and frugal manner in which he had discharged his duty towards his principal.  Before