It resembled a man dressed in what, in former ages, were known as petticoat-breeches. Their plenty made them look like a frock. Inspecting this figure through a binocular glass, Mr. Vanderholt perceived that the rest of its garb consisted of a white shirt, a silk handkerchief, tied in a sailor's knot under a wide turned-down collar, a braided jacket, blue, and a cap with a naval peak, much after the pattern that is worn by yachting men.
A short, square man stood at the wheel, that blazed in a brass circle to the sun, and beside him stood another man, remarkable for nothing but a long goatlike beard, and a blue cap, tasselled, pointed, and overhanging, such as mutinous smacksmen wear in Italian opera.
'A queer ship's company!' exclaimed Mr. Vanderholt to Glew. 'In all your going a-fishing did you ever see the like of such a sailor-man as that chap yonder in the trousers?'
Captain Glew's reply was arrested by a hail from the little barque.
'Ho!' shrilled the strange figure in breeches. 'The schooner ahoy! What schooner are you?'
'The _Mowbray_, of London, on a cruise. What ship are you?'
'The _Wife's Hope_, from Calcutta to New York! Eighty days out! Jute and linseed! We're short of sugar: can you loan me some?'
All this was delivered in the voice of a bantam-cock, delirious with continuous triumphant clarioning.
'The _Wife's Hope_,' said Mr. Vanderholt, turning to his daughter. 'Here's some Yankee notion.'
'If that figure's not a woman,' answered Violet, 'it does not speak with the voice of a man.'
After a brief consultation with Mr. Vanderholt, Captain Glew shouted:
'I think we can let you have some sugar--a cask of moist, and some lump, to help you along to the next ship. We'll carry it aboard for you.'
The figure in breeches flourished its hand in a gesture of delight, and then began to walk the short poop with superior stately strides, constantly directing glances at the yacht. The _Mowbray_ carried three good boats, and the boat amidships was the long-boat; this was promptly got over the side. They broke out a cask of moist sugar and a case of lump; and a crew having entered her, Mr. and Miss Vanderholt were steered by Mr. Tweed to the _Wife's Hope_ over the glazed heave of the deep-blue afternoon swell.