The pilot: a tale of the sea. By J. Fenimore Cooper.

I F)Al.' i.
The sho)lt (lday of tlhat l igh northern latitu de
was already (drawving to a (dose, n(1 the sutn was
t:lhrowing his p)artins3 ray:s obliqutely across t11,
waters, touchin" the e0l ooi1y waves here and(l tIlere
xvith streaks of p)ale ligit. the stormy wIinds of
the Glierman (ean wvel e alp)parently lulledl to rest;
and, tlhouw thle incessant rollin"g of thle sotr 0n'
the shore, heightened thle gloomfy eharacter of tile
-hour anl t-he view,\ the tlght ri)pple that ruffled tlhe
sleeping billows wats produced by a gentle air, that
blew directly tt1ro the land. Notwithstandilng
this fattvourable circumstance there was sonething
threatening it the aspect of tlhe oceant wh'ich wa.'s
spe'aking in hollow, hut (eep murnmurs, like a vol.
Seano on tile eve of an eruption, that greatly heigit'
ened the feelings of amazement and( (read witl
which thel peasants beheld this extraordinary iL'terlruption to the quiet of theirt little bay. WVith
no otlher sails spread to thle action of thle aiI, than
her' heav} y tmainsal, and one of those light jibs that
pr)loeted fla' beyond hell bows, the v'essl'lidtd
ove' thl.e wvater with a grace tand te cility fthat sece -
ed n)agieal to the beholders who turnedI their
wonderintr looks froltx the schooner to each other,
in silexnt tamazement. At length tile drover spoke
it) a low, solemn voiee..
" l-e's a bold( ehield that stee's her! anld if
that bit (craft h}as wood in her bottom like tile brigantines t hat ply bettween Lo.'on and the Fith
at Leith, he's in muir danger than a prudet(lt mo)t
could wish. Ay! he's hy thle big x'ock that shows
his head when the tide runs low, but it's -no 1o001
tal man who can steer long in the road he's jourI.
Oeyvitni, and not speehily find land xvi' water a top
Thle little sch.(one', howeverl still held her way
$m1)nor the rxockcs alad sand-p}its, maki{ng su. s igt