And without another word he produced a patent folding spyglass from his pocket and clapped it to his eye. Silver, who had been an interested witness to the scene from his aerie atop of the cabin skylight, hopped across the deck to my great-uncle's side.
"Beggin' your pardon, captain," he said. "But I'd make oath that tops'l is the canvas you took out o' the Mogul's ship off Pondicherry. Mind it, sir? 'Twas uncommon bleached and looked whiter'n our cloth."
Murray handed him the glass.
"Stap me, Silver, but I believe you are right," he returned. "What a hawk's eye you must have! Here, see what you can make of it with this."
Long John peered through the glass, steadying his crutch against the butt of the mizzen.
"Aye, 'tis——"
"R'yal James to leeward!" hailed the foretop.
And the main crosstrees echoed, not to be outdone—
"Walrus comin' up astarn o' her!"
"'Tis they, never a doubt," assented Silver as he lowered the glass. "Diggin' into it they are, too, and a lusty show o' canvas to both o' them. If you was to ask me now, captain, I'd say Flint isn't willing to plow your wake."