The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. " "This comes of fine feelings!" muttered Jonathan, contemptuously. It isn’t illusions—for us. I have said that I am but a nun now. Nice position. You must, know, Sir Rowland—for I've no secrets from you—that, in the course of my business I've found it convenient to become the owner of a small Dutch sloop; by means of which I can transmit any light ware,—such as gold watches, rings, and plate, as well as occasionally a bank or goldsmith's note, which has been spoken with by way of the mail,—you understand me?—to Holland or Flanders, and obtain a secure and ready market for them. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you.
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