rat, and can't find him; I see the fine fellow, at this moment, on
deck,--but I feel no obligation to tell you who or where he is; my ship is
cleared and I sail, and you have no power to stop me; we are outside of
all the head-lands, good two leagues and a half off, and some writers say
that a gun-shot is the extent of your jurisdiction, once out of which,
your authority is not worth half as much as that of my chief cook, who has
power to make his mate clean the coppers. Well, sir, you stay here ten
minutes longer and we shall be fully three leagues from your nearest land,
and then you are in America, according to law, and a quick passage you
will have made of it. Now, that is what I call a category."

As the captain made this last remark, his quick eye saw that the wind had
hauled so far round to the westward, as to supersede the necessity of
tacking, and that they were actually going eight knots in a direct line
from Portsmouth. Casting an eye behind him, he perceived that the cutter
had given up the chase, and was returning towards the distant roads. Under
circumstances so discouraging, the attorney, who began to be alarmed for
his boat, which was flying along on the water, towed by the ship, prepared
to take his leave; for he was fully aware that he had no power to compel
the other to heave-to his ship, to enable him to get out of her. Luckily
the water was still tolerably smooth, and with fear and trembling, Mr.
Seal succeeded in blundering into the boat; not, however, until the
watermen had warned him of their intention to hold on no longer. Mr. Grab
followed, with a good deal of difficulty, and just as a hand was about to
let go the painter, the captain appeared at the gangway with the man they
were in quest of, and said in his most winning manner--

"Mr. Grab, Mr. Davis; Mr. Davis, Mr Grab; I seldom introduce steerage
passengers, but to oblige two old friends I break the rule. That's what I
call a category. My compliments to Mrs. Grab. Let go the painter"