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She was a huge three-master of clumsy build; her elaborately ornamented prow, the shape of her decks, and her rigging all marked her as an old-fashioned merchantman. The pirate had come so near that one could shout from one ship to the other. The deepest silence reigned on board the former, the men stood motionless at their posts beside the ropes, oars, or guns.

Had the conversation been of a three-master in a gale; of buried treasure; or of the ultimate salvation of the damned, the speaker would at that moment have been equally optimistic. The universe had suddenly become too radiant a place to harbor calamity. Wilton was a paradise like the first Eden a garden of smiles, of dimples, of blushing cheeks and of silver buckles.

"Wrapped in her plaid shawl, with a look of inspiration as she faced the breeze, the English woman gazed fixedly at the great sun ball as it descended toward the horizon. Far off in the distance a three-master in full sail was outlined on the blood-red sky and a steamship, somewhat nearer, passed along, leaving behind it a trail of smoke on the horizon.

And in the warmed stillness of the room you hear the wind raging and whistling, as you would have imagined it could only rage and whistle in the rigging of a three-master at sea. There are, however, a dozen more stories above this story. You walk from chamber to chamber, and in answer to inquiry learn that the rent of this one suite-among so many-is over thirty-six thousand dollars a year!

He was not going to let himself be dragged over to a strange vessel that was doomed. Immediately afterward another crash was heard. The bowsprit of the three-master had snapped, and the two ships were now clear of each other. As the liner steamed ahead, the boy saw the big broken bowsprit dangling in the bow of the other vessel, and he also saw great clouds of sails drop down upon the crew.

To those who are not thoroughly familiar with it the River Thames and its docks, from London Bridge to Gravesend, seems a vast and uncharted wilderness of craft a wilderness in which it would be perfectly easy to hide even a three-master successfully.

And Baker Jorgen, who for the greater part of his life has been a seaman on the big vessels sailing the northern and southern oceans, talks about capstans and icebergs and beautiful black women from the West Indies. He sets the capstan turning, so that the great three-master makes sail out of the Havana roadstead, and all his hearers feel their hearts grow light.

He did not suppress any of the details; in fact, he magnified them just a bit. "She's a free woman, so she says, Labe," he said, in conclusion. "And a free woman has a right to be free." "Is that so! That's what she says, hey? And you let her say it? Why, you you " He hesitated, hovering between candid expression and the respect due an ex-skipper of a three-master.

The day was perfect, dreamy, heavenly, warm and filled with sea scents and harbour sounds; scarcely a breath of wind stirred across the water where a three-master was being towed to her moorings by a tug. "She's coming up to the wharves," said Silas. "They steer by the spire of St. Philips, the line between there and Fort Sumpter is all deep water. How'd you like to be a sailor?"

The sea breeds fancies and superstitions, you know that, Lepine, for I believe you are superstitious yourself." "Perhaps, monsieur; all sailors are, and I have had experiences. There are bad and good ships, just as there are bad and good men, of that I am sure. Perhaps that three-master was a bad ship." Lepine laughed as though at his own words.