It was in the month of January, 1699, that a one-masted vessel, with
black sides, was running along the coast near Beachy Head, at the rate
of about five miles per hour. The wind was from the northward and blew
keenly, the vessel was under easy sail, and the water was smooth. It was
now broad daylight, and the sun rose clear of clouds and vapour; but he
threw out light without heat. The upper parts of the spars, the hammock
rails, and the small iron guns which were mounted on the vessel's decks,
were covered with a white frost. The man at the helm stood muffled up in
a thick pea-jacket and mittens, which made his hands appear as large as
his feet. His nose was a pug of an intense bluish red, one tint arising
from the present cold, and the other from the preventive checks which he
had been so long accustomed to take to drive out such an unpleasant
intruder. His grizzled hair waved its locks gently to the wind, and his
face was distorted with an immoderate quid of tobacco which protruded
his right cheek. This personage was second officer and steersman on
board of the vessel, and his name was Obadiah Coble. He had been
baptised Obadiah about sixty years before; that is to say if he had been
baptised at all. He stood so motionless at the helm, that you might have
imagined him to have been frozen there as he stood, were it not that
his eyes occasionally wandered from the compass on the binnacle to the
bows of the vessel, and that the breath from his mouth, when it was
thrown out into the clear frosty air, formed a smoke like to that from
the spout of a half-boiling tea-kettle.

The crew belonging to the cutter, for she was a vessel in the service of
his Majesty, King William the Third, at this time employed in protecting
his Majesty's revenue against the importation of alamodes and
lutestrings, were all down below at their breakfasts, with the exception