“I am but a poor man, Mr Harris; but I have had charge of a watch in my time, old and rusty as I seem, nor have I spent so many long nights on deck without keeping thoughts at work, though I may not have overhaul’d as much philosophy, in so doing, as a paid parish priest, or a fee’d lawyer.  Let me tell you, it is a disheartening thing to be nothing but a dweller in a colony.  It keeps down the pride and spirit of a man, and lends a hand in making him what his masters would be glad to have him.  I shall say nothing of fruits, and meats, and other eatables, that come from the land of which both you and I have heard and know too much, unless it be to point to yonder sun, and then to ask the question, whether you think King George has the power to make it shine on the bit of an island where he lives, as it shines here in his broad provinces of America?”

“Certainly not:  and yet you know that every one allows that the productions of England are so much superior”—­

“Ay, ay; a colony always sails under the lee of its mother.  Talk does it all, friend Harris.  Talk, talk, talk; a man can talk himself into a fever, or set a ship’s company by the ears.  He can talk a cherry into a peach, or a flounder into a whale.  Now here is the whole of this long coast of America, and all her rivers, and lakes, and brooks, swarming with such treasures as any man might fatten on, and yet his Majesty’s servants, who come among us, talk of their turbots, and their sole, and their carp, as if the Lord had only made such fish, and the devil had let the others slip through his fingers, without asking leave.”

Wilder turned, and fastened a look of surprise on the old man, who continued to eat, however, as if he had uttered nothing but what might be considered as a matter of course opinion.

“You are more attached to your birth-place than loyal, friend,” said the young mariner, a little austerely.

“I am not fish-loyal at least.  What the Lord made, one may speak of, I hope, without offence.  As to the Government, that is a rope twisted by the hands of man, and”—­

“And what?” demanded Wilder, perceiving that the other hesitated.

“Hum!  Why, I fancy man will undo his own work, when he can find nothing better to busy himself in.  No harm in saying that either, I hope?”

“So much, that I must call your attention to the business that has brought us together.  You have not go soon forgotten the earnest-money you received?”

The old sailor shoved the dish from before him, and, folding his arms, he looked his companion full in the eye, as he calmly answered,—­

“When I am fairly enlisted in a service, I am a man to be counted on.  I hope you sail under the same colors, friend Harris?”

“It would be dishonest to be otherwise.  There is one thing you will excuse, before I proceed to detail my plans and wishes:  I must take occasion to examine this closet, in order to be sure that we are actually alone.”