He produced a bottle of "old Madeira" from a locker, and filled several glasses; and while the short-lived storm raged fearfully above our heads, he insisted on every man drinking a toast in honor of the Fourth of July, and set the example himself by tossing off a tumbler filled to the brim.
We rounded Cape Hatteras early one delightful morning, and with a pleasant breeze from the northward shaped our course for Ocracoke Inlet.
Several coasters were in company, and a small schooner was seen standing towards us from the Gulf Stream.

This vessel was soon recognized as the Young Pilot, bound to Savannah, which we had spoken off Sandy Hook.

The captain of the little schooner appeared to recognize the Mary, hoisted his colors, and steered directly towards us.
"What can that fellow want ?" muttered Captain Thompson.

"He should have been in Savannah before this?
What has he been doing away there in the Gulf Stream?
There is roguery somewhere ?" The Young Pilot soon came within hail, when Captain Moncrieff requested Captain Thompson to heave to, as he wanted to come on board.

The boat was launched from the deck of the pilot boat, and, manned by four athletic seamen, brought Captain Moncrieff alongside in handsome style.
He jumped on deck, grasped the hand of Captain Thompson, and requested to have some conversation with him in the cabin.