"Just as I pulled the port open a voice overhead sang out: 'Get back
to your ship, you three men; your mate has consented to stop with us
as we're in want of a navigator.'
"'Let him tell us that himself,' said one of my men; 'let him show up.
What ha' ye done with him?'
"'Be off,' roared one of the people, in a savage, hurricane note.
"There was a little pause as of astonishment on the part of the boat's
crew--I could not see them, the boat lay too far astern,--but after a
bit I heard the splash of oars, the boat swept into the sphere of the
porthole, and I beheld her making for the barque.
"I was now sensible, however, not only by observing the whaler to
recede, but by hearing the streaming and rippling of broken waters
along the bends, that the people of the brig had in some fashion
trimmed sail and filled upon the vessel. We were under way. The barque
slided out of the compass of the porthole, but now I heard her
captain's voice coming across the space of water, clear and strong:
"'Brig ahoy! What do you mean by keeping my mate?'
"To this no answer was returned. Again the captain hailed the brig;
but owing to the shift in the postures of the two vessels, and to my
having nothing but a circular hole to hear through, I could only dimly
and imperfectly catch what was shouted.
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