shoal. Even the landsmen had some feverish suspicions of the truth, and
the steerage passengers were already holding a secret conference on the
possibility of hiding the pursued in some of the recesses of the ship.
"Such things were often done," one whispered to another, "and it was as
easy to perform it now as at any other time."

But Captain Truck viewed the matter differently: his vocation called him
three times a year into the roads at Portsmouth, and he felt little
disposition to embarrass his future intercourse with the place by setting
its authorities at a too open defiance. He deliberated a good deal on the
propriety of throwing his ship up into the wind, as she slowly advanced
towards the boat, and of inviting those in the latter to board him.
Opposed to this was the pride of profession, and Jack Truck was not a man
to overlook or to forget the "yarns" that were spun among his fellows at
the New England Coffee-house, or among those farming hamlets on the banks
of the Connecticut, whence all the packet-men are derived, and whither
they repair for a shelter when their careers are run, as regularly as the
fruit decays where it falleth, or the grass that has not been harvested or
cropped withers on its native stalk.

"There is no question, Sir George, that this fellow is a man-of-war's
man," said the master to the baronet, who stuck close to his side. "Take a
peep at the creeping rogue through this night-glass, and you will see his
crew seated at their thwarts with their arms folded, like men who eat the
king's beef. None but your regular public servant ever gets that impudent
air of idleness about him, either in England or America. In this respect,
human nature is the same in both hemispheres, a man never falling in with
luck, but he fancies it is no more than his deserts."

"There seems to be a great many of them! Can it be their intention to