CHAPTER XIV.
THE GALLEYS AND THE FRIGATE.
_I .-- The Frigate._ The _Merry Maid_ had left the Texel by the narrow gut called De Witt's Diep, with her convoy following in line and in admirable order.

The breeze was fair for England.

A full round moon rose over the sandbanks behind them as Captain Barker sent the pilots ashore and stood easily out to sea, for the most of his merchant-ships were sluggish sailers, and not a few overladen.
So clear was the night that, as he paced the quarter-deck with the dew falling steadily around him, he could not only count their thirty-six lanterns, but even discern their piled canvas glimmering as they stole like ghosts in his wake.
That night he left his watch for an hour only, when shortly before dawn Captain Runacles came to relieve him, threatening mutiny unless he retired to snatch a little slumber.

But the sun was scarce up before the little man reappeared.

The pride of his old profession was working like yeast within him.