"Is the old man mad!" exclaimed the young officer in the whale-boat,
when his men had ceased rowing; "does he think that the bottom of the
Ariel is made of iron, and that a rock can't knock a hole in it! or does
he think she is manned with alligators, who can't be drowned!"

A languid smile played for a moment round the handsome features of the
young man, who was rather reclining than sitting in the stern-sheets of
the barge, as he replied:

"He knows your prudence too well, Captain Barnstable, to fear either the
wreck of your vessel or the drowning of her crew. How near the bottom
does your keel lie?"

"I am afraid to sound," returned Barnstable. "I have never the heart to
touch a lead-line when I see the rocks coming up to breathe like so many
porpoises."

"You are afloat!" exclaimed the other, with a vehemence that denoted an
abundance of latent fire.

"Afloat!" echoed his friend; "ay, the little Ariel would float in air!"
As he spoke, he rose in the boat, and lifting his leathern sea-cap from
his head, stroked back the thick clusters of black locks which shadowed
his sun-burnt countenance, while he viewed his little vessel with the
complacency of a seaman who was proud of her qualities. "But it's close
work, Mr. Griffith, when a man rides to a single anchor in a place like
this, and at such a nightfall. What are the orders?"

"I shall pull into the surf and let go a grapnel; you will take Mr.