“Schooner, ahoy!” was the greeting of the stranger, and a simple “Hilloa!” the answer.

“What schooner is that, pray?”

“The Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, Long Island; bound to the southward, after seal, as I suppose you know by our outfit.”

“When did you leave Oyster Pond—­and how did you leave your owner, the good Deacon Pratt?”

“We sailed yesterday afternoon, on the first of the ebb, and the deacon left us as we weighed anchor.  He was well, and full of hope for our luck.  What schooner is that, pray?”

“The Sea Lion, of Hum’ses Hull; bound to the southward, after seals, as you probably knew by our outfit.  Who commands that schooner?”

“Captain Roswell Gar’ner—­who commands aboard you, pray?”

“Captain Jason Daggett,” showing himself more plainly, by moving out of the line of the main-rigging.  “I had the pleasure of seeing you when I was on the P’int, looking after my uncle’s dunnage, you may remember, Captain Gar’ner.  ’T was but the other day, and you are not likely to have forgotten my visit.”

“Not at all, not at all, Captain Daggett; though I had no idea, then, that you intended to make a voyage to the southward so soon.  When did you leave the Hole, sir?”

“Day before yesterday, afternoon.  We came out of the Hull about five o’clock.”

“How had you the wind, sir?”

“Sou’-west, and sou’-west and by south.  There has been but little change in that, these three days.”

Roswell Gardiner muttered something to himself; but he did not deem it prudent to utter the thoughts, that were just then passing through his mind, aloud.

“Ay, ay,” he answered, after a moment’s pause, “the wind has stood there the whole week; but I think we shall shortly get a change.  There is an easterly feeling in the air.”

“Waal, let it come.  With this offing, we could clear Hatteras with anything that wasn’t worse than a south-easter.  There’s a southerly set, in here, down the coast, for two or three hundred miles.”

“A heavy south-easter would jam us in, here, between the shoals, in a way I shouldn’t greatly relish, sir.  I like always to get to the eastward of the Stream, as soon as I can, in running off the land.”

“Very true, Captain Gar’ner—­very true, sir.  It is best to get outside the Stream, if a body can.  Once there, I call a craft at sea.  Eight-and-forty hours more of this wind would just about carry us there.  Waal, sir, as we’re bound on the same sort of v’y’ge, I’m happy to have fallen in with you; and I see no reason why we should not be neighbourly, and ‘gam’ it a little, when we’ve nothing better to do.  I like that schooner of yours so well, that I’ve made my own to look as nearly resembling her as I could.  You see our paint is exactly the same.”

“I have observed that, Captain Daggett; and you might say the same of the figure-heads.”