LE PllRE ARCTIQUE. 
197 
thing more fragile, graceful, or coquettish, than her 
appearance from the deck of the corvette,—as she 
curtsied and swayed herself on the bosom of the almost 
imperceptible swell, or flirted up the water with her 
curving bows. She really looked like a living little 
lady. 
But from all such complacent reveries I was soon 
awakened by the sound of a deep voice, proceeding 
apparently from the very bottom of the sea, which 
hailed the ship in the most authoritative manner, and 
imperiously demanded her name, where she was going, 
whom she carried, and whence she came: to all which 
questions, a young lieutenant, standing with his hat 
off at the gangway, politely responded. Apparently 
satisfied on these points, our invisible interlocutor then 
announced his intention of coming on board. All the 
officers of the ship collected on the poop to receive 
him. 
In a few seconds more, amid the din of the most 
unearthly music, and surrounded by a bevy of hideous 
monsters, a white-bearded spectacled personage—clad 
in bear-skin, with a cocked-hat over his left ear—pre¬ 
sented himself in the gangway, and handing to the 
