'Keep a sharp look-out there for a sail.'
'Aye, aye, sir.'
The above short but professional dialogue took place between Captain Roderick Rowland, of the good ship Gladiator, and his third officer, (a Mr. Summers by name,) who had been sent to the main-top gallant mast-head immediately after the Earl of Derwentwater and his companions had left the vessel, with the single order, at first, to keep a sharp look-out for the many rocks and reefs which surrounded the island, but Summers had not assumed his station for many minutes before he was peremptorily ordered, (as we have above recorded,) to look out for sails as well as for rocks, which caused the sailor who stood upon the other end of the cross-trees, and who was on regular mast-head duty, thus to address the third officer,—
'Do you suppose, Mr. Summers, that our captain really expects to fall in with a sail in this out-o'-the-way kind of spot?'
'Of course he does,' replied Summers, 'or he wouldn't have told me to look out for one. But why shouldn't a sail be seen here, Bill, as well as anywhere else?'
'Well, I can't exactly say, sir,' answered Bill, (who, by the way, was a fine specimen of a rough and rugged old tar,) 'but I have understood that ships in general have of late years given this little bit of an island a wide berth.'
'Did ever you hear the reason why?' asked Summers.
'Yes, sir, more than forty times, and if my watch wasn't almost out I could spin you a yarn as long as our main-top bowline about the "reason," as you call it.'
Smiling at the seriousness with which the old tar had spoken, the officer replied,
'O never mind the yarn now, Bill, nor the reason either, but look sharp there, about three points off our bow, and see if you cannot catch a glimpse of something high and white, like a sail: I believe I can.'