Thirty guns, I do b'lieve, an' all sail set.

I cou'd a'most count her guns, she stood so close." "Hey ?" "She tacked just here an' went round close under Bradden Point; so she's for Troy, that's certain.

Be you bound that way, too ?" "Iss, I'll see her, if she's there." "Best not go too close, my son; for I know the looks o' those customers.
By all accounts you'm a man of too much substance to risk yourself near a press-gang." Young Zeb gazed over the old man's head at the horizon line, and answered, as if reading the sentence there, "I might fare worse, hollibubber." The hollibubber seemed, for a second, about to speak; for, of course, he knew Zeb's trouble.

But after a while he took his shovel out of the ground slowly.
"Ay, ye might," he said; "pray the Lord ye don't." Zeb went on, faster than ever.

He passed Bradden Point and Widdy Cove at the rate of five miles an hour, or thereabouts, then he turned aside over a stile and crossed a couple of meadows; and after these he was on the high-road, on the very top of the hill overlooking Troy Harbour.
He gazed down.