"Very good, Master Willis; and yet the sun is only a step from us in comparison to the distance of some stars that we see very distinctly, but which are, nevertheless, so remote, that their rays, travelling at the same rate as those of the sun, are several years in reaching us."

Willis rose abruptly, whistling "the Mariner's March," and went to join Fritz, who was steering the pinnace.

At this _nave_ mark of disapprobation on the part of the Pilot, Becker, Ernest, and Jack burst involuntarily into a violent peal of laughter.

"Laugh away, laugh away." said Willis; "I will not admit your calculations for all that."

The sky had now assumed an opal or azure tint, the wind had gradually died away into a gentle breeze, the waves were now swelling gently and regularly, like the movements of the infant's cradle that is being rocked asleep. Never had a day, opening in the convulsions of a tempest, more suddenly lapsed into sunshine and smiles: it was like the fairies of Perrault's Tales, who, at first wrapped in sorry rags, begging and borne down with age, throw off their chrysalis and appear sparkling with youth, gaiety, and beauty, their wallet converted into a basket of flowers, and their crutch to a magic wand.

"Father" inquired Fritz, "shall we go any farther?"

Since the weather had calmed down, and there was no longer any necessity for exertion, the expedition had lost its charm for the young man.

"I think it is useless; what say you, Willis?"

"Ah," said the latter, taking Becker by the hand, "in consideration of the eight days' friendship that connects you even more intimately with Captain Littlestone than my affection for him of twenty years'

standing, keep still a few miles to the east."

"If the sloop has been driven to a distance by the storm, and is returning towards us, which is very likely, I do not see that we can be of much use."

"But if dismasted and leaky?"

"That would alter the case, only I am afraid the ladies will be uneasy about us."

"But they were half prepared, father."

"Jack is right," added Fritz, whose energies were again called into play by the thought of the _Nelson_ in distress; "let us go on."

"Besides, on the word of a pilot, the sea will be very calm and gentle for some time to come: there is not the slightest danger."

"And what if there were?" replied Fritz.

"Well, Willis, I shall give up the pinnace to you till dark," said Becker, "and may God guide us; we shall return to-night, so as to arrive at Rockhouse early in the morning."

"Hurrah for the captain!" cried Willis, throwing a cap into the air.

The evolutions of a cap, thrown up towards the sky or down upon the ground, were very usual modes with Willis of expressing his joy or sorrow.

This homage rendered to Becker, he hastened to let a reef out of the sheet, and the pinnace, for a moment at rest, redoubled its speed, like post-horses starting from the inn-door under the combined influence of a cheer from the postillion and a flourish of the whip.

"There is a cockle-shell that skips along pretty fairly," said Willis; "but it wants two very important things."

"What things?"

"A caboose and a nigger."

"A caboose and a nigger?"

"Yes, I mean a pantry and a cook; a gale for breakfast is all very well, one gets used to it, it is light and easily digested; but the same for dinner is rather too much of a good thing in one day."

"I observed your thoughtful mother hang a sack on one of your shoulders, which appeared tolerably well filled--where is it?"

"Here it is," said Jack, issuing from the hatchway; "here are our stores: a ham, two Dutch cheeses, two callabashes full of Rockhouse malaga, and there is plenty of fresh water in the gourds; with these, we have wherewithal to defy hunger till to-morrow."

"Capital!" said Willis.

This time, however, a cap did not appear in the air, as the last one had not been seen since the former ovation.

"Let us lay the table," said Jack, arranging the coils of rope that crowded the deck. "Well, you see, Willis, we want for nothing on board the pinnace, not even a what-do-you-call-it?"

"A caboose, Master Jack."

"Well, not even a caboose."

"Quite true; and if the _Nelson_ were in the offing, I would not exchange my pilot's badge for the epaulettes of a commodore; but, alas! she is not there."

"Cheer up, Willis, cheer up; one is either a man or one is not. What is the good of useless regrets?"

"Very little, but it is hard to be yard-armed while absent at my time of life--and afterwards--your health, Mr. Becker."

"That would be hard at any age, Willis; but I rather think it has not come to that yet."

"When it has come to it, there will be very little time left to talk it over."

"Did you not say, brother, that the _Nelson_ might hear our signals without our hearing hers? If so, there is a chance for Willis yet."

"Certainly, Jack, because she has the wind in her favor to act as a speaking-trumpet, whilst we had it against us acting as a deafener."

"Is there any other influence that affects sound besides the wind?"

"Yes, I have already mentioned that temperature has something to do with it. Sound varies in intensity according to the state of the atmosphere. If, for example, we ring a small bell in a closed vessel filled with air, it has been observed that, as the air is withdrawn by the pump, the sound gradually grows less and less distinct."

"And if a vacuum be formed?"

"Then the sound is totally extinguished."

"So, then," objected Willis, "if two persons were to talk in what you call a vacuum, they would not hear each other?"

"Two persons could not talk in a vacuum," replied Ernest.

"Why not?"

"Because they would die as soon as they opened their mouths."

"Ah, that alters the case."

"If, on the contrary, a quantity of air or gas were compressed into a space beyond what it habitually held, then the sound," continued Ernest, "would be more intense than if the air were free."