“Dradful dark,” said the captain, thoughtfully.

“Have you really a good idea of where we are?”

“An idee?  Why, if I had a chart,—­which I haven’t, cos I’ve got it all mapped out in my head,—­but if I had one, I could take my finger an pint the exact spot where we are a driftin this blessed minute.”

“You’re going straight down the bay, I suppose.”

“Right—­yea, I am; I’m goin straight down; but I hope an trust, an what’s more, I believe, I am taking a kine o’ cant over nigher the New Brunswick shore.”

“How long will we drift?”

“Wal, for about two hours—­darsn’t drift longer; an besides, don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Darsn’t.  Thar’s a place down thar that every vessel on this here bay steers clear of, an every navigator feels dreadful shy of.”

“What place is that?”

“Quaco Ledge,” said Captain Corbet, in a solemn tone.  “We’ll get as near it as is safe this night, an p’aps a leetle nearer; but, then, the water’s so calm and still, that it won’t make any difference—­in fact, it wouldn’t matter a great deal if we came up close to it.”

“Quaco Ledge?” said Bruce.  “I’ve heard of that.”

“Heard of it?  I should rayther hope you had.  Who hasn’t?  It’s the one great, gen’ral, an standin terror of this dangerous and iron-bound bay.  There’s no jokin, no nonsense about Quaco Ledge; mind I tell you.”

“Where does it lie?” asked Phil, after a pause.

“Wal, do you know whar Quaco settlement is?”

“Yes.”

“Wal, Quaco Ledge is nigh about half way between Quaco settlement and Ile Haute, bein a’most in the middle of the bay, an in a terrible dangerous place for coasters, especially in a fog, or in a snow-storm.  Many’s the vessel that’s gone an never heard of, that Quaco Ledge could tell all about, if it could speak.  You take a good snowstorm in this Bay of Fundy, an let a schooner get lost in it, an not know whar she is, an if Quaco Ledge don’t bring her up all standin, then I’m a Injine.”

“Is it a large place?”

“Considerably too large for comfort,” said the captain.  “They’ve sounded it, an found the whole shoal about three an a half mile long, an a half a mile broad.  It’s all kivered over with water at high tide, but at half tide it begins to show its nose, an at low tide you see as pooty a shoal for shipwrecking as you may want; rayther low with pleasant jagged rocks at the nothe-east side, an about a hundred yards or so in extent.  I’ve been nigh on to it in clear weather, but don’t want to be within five miles of it in a fog or in a storm.  In a thick night like this, I’ll pull up before I get close.”

“You’ve never met with any accident there, I suppose.”

“Me?  No, not me.  I always calc’late to give Quaco Ledge the widest kine o’ berth.  An I hope you’ll never know anythin more about that same place than what I’m tellin you now.  The knowlege which one has about that place, an places ginrally of that kine, comes better by hearsay than from actool observation.”