"You may be right," returned Wilder, with a sudden conviction of the
truth of what the other had said. "Stay you then here; if any thing
befall me, try to get the vessel into port as far north as the Capes of
Virginia, at least;--on no account attempt Hatteras, in the present
condition of----"

"What would you do, Captain Wilder?" interrupted the mate, laying his
hand on the shoulder of his commander, who had already thrown his sea-cap
on the deck, and was preparing to divest himself of some of his outer
garments.

"I go aloft to ease the mast of that topsail, without which we lose the
spar, and possibly the ship."

"I see that plain enough; but, shall it be said that another did the duty
of Edward Earing? It is your business to carry the vessel into the Capes
of Virginia, and mine to cut the topsail adrift. If harm comes to me,
why, put it in the log, with a word or two about the manner in which I
played my part. That is the most proper epitaph for a sailor."

Wilder made no resistance. He resumed his watchful and reflecting
attitude, with the simplicity of one who had been too long trained to the
discharge of certain obligations himself, to manifest surprise that
another should acknowledge their imperative character. In the mean time,
Earing proceeded steadily to perform what he had just promised. Passing
into the waist of the ship, he provided himself with a suitable hatchet,
and then, without speaking a syllable to any of the mute but attentive
seamen, he sprang into the fore-rigging, every strand and rope-yarn of
which was tightened by the strain nearly to snapping. The understanding
eyes of his observers comprehended his intention; and with precisely the