in the water to impede her progress.  A small skiff, occupied by a boy, was towing under the lee, and, as the mass of the vessel began to move, it was skipping along the surface of the water, light and buoyant as a feather.  Perceiving that it was a boat belonging to the shore, Wilder walked forward, and demanded its owner.  A mate pointed to Joram, who at that moment ascended from the interior of the vessel, where he had been settling the balance due from a delinquent, or, what was in his eyes the same thing, a departing debtor.

The sight of this man recalled Wilder to a recollection of all that had occurred that morning, and of the whole delicacy of the task he had undertaken to perform.  But the publican, whose ideas appeared always concentrated when occupied on the subject of gain, seemed troubled by no particular emotions at the interview.  He approached the young mariner and, saluting him by the title of “Captain,” bade him a good voyage, with those customary wish es which seamen express, when about to separate on such an occasion.

“A lucky trip you have made of it, Captain Wilder,” he concluded, “and I hope your passage will be short.  You’ll not be without a breeze this afternoon; and, by stretching well over towards Montauck you’ll be able to make such an offing, on the other tack, as to run the coast down in the morning.  If I am any judge of the weather, the wind will have more easting in it, than you may happen to find to your fancy.”

“And how long do you think my voyage is likely to last?” demanded Wilder, dropping his voice so low as to reach no ears but those of the publican.

Joram cast a furtive glance aside; and, perceiving that they were alone, he suffered an expression of hardened cunning to take possession of a countenance that ordinarily seemed set in dull, physical contentment, as he replied, laying a finger on his nose while speaking,—­

“Didn’t I tender the consignee a beautiful oath, master Wilder?”

“You certainly exceeded my expectations with your promptitude, and”—­

“Information!” added the landlord of the ‘Foul Anchor,’ perceiving the other a little at a loss for a word; “yes, I have always been remarkable for the activity of my mind in these small matters; but, when a man once knows a thing thoroughly, it is a great folly to spend his breath in too many words.”

“It is certainly a great advantage to be so well instructed.  I suppose you improve your knowledge to a good account.”

“Ah! bless me, master Wilder, what would become of us all, in these difficult times, if we did not turn an honest penny in every way that offers?  I have brought up several fine children in credit, and it sha’n’t be my fault if I don’t leave them something too, besides my good name.  Well, well; they say, ‘A nimble sixpence is as good as a lazy shilling;’ but give me the man who don’t stand shilly-shally when a friend has need of his good word, or a lift from his hand.  You always know where to find such a man; as our politicians say, after they have gone through thick and thin in the cause, be it right or be it wrong.”