"Sure enough, it's an old lady--an old quack-doctress, seems to me, in a black gown, too.

I must hail her." Ordering the ship to be kept on towards the port, he shortened sail within easy distance, so as to glide slowly by, and seizing the trumpet, thus spoke: "Old lady, ahoy! What are you talking about?
What's your text ?" "The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance.

He shall wash his feet in the blood of the wicked." "Ah, what a lack of charity.

Now hear mine:--God helpeth them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says." "Reprobate pirate, a gale shall yet come to drive thee in wrecks from our waters." "The strong wind of your hate fills my sails well.

Adieu," waving his bonnet--"tell us the rest at Leith." Next morning the ships were almost within cannon-shot of the town.