"
As the boat drew alongside, Peter bid me again a most affectionate, if
not a most complimentary farewell.
"She has never seen many Yankees herself," said Peter, "but prayin'
Joe, the horse-stealer--tarn him--and a few New England pedlars, who
asked three hundred per shent for their coots, but Mr Slick is a
shentleman, every inch of him, and the pest of them she ever saw, and
she will pe glad to see her again whenever she comes this way."
When they were all seated in the boat, Peter played a doleful ditty,
which I have no doubt expressed the grief of his heart. But I am sorry
to say it was not much appreciated on board of the "Black Hawk." By
the time they reached the shore, the anchor was up, the sails trimmed,
and we were fairly out of Ship Harbour.
CHAPTER XIII.
A FOGGY NIGHT.
The wind, what there was of it, was off shore; it was a light
north-wester, but after we made an offing of about ten miles, it
failed us, being evidently nothing but a land breeze, and we were soon
becalmed. After tossing about for an hour or two, a light cat's-paw
gave notice that a fresh one was springing up, but it was from the
east, and directly ahead.
"We shall make poor work of this," said the pilot, "and I am afraid it
will bring up a fog with it, which is a dangerous thing on this coast,
I would advise therefore returning to Ship Harbour," but the captain
said, "Business must be attended to, and as there was nothing more of
the kind to be done there, we must only have patience and beat up for
Port Liscomb, which is a great resort for fishermen.
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