They now fell in with the lugger again lying on the opposite tack, and a hundred yards at least to windward.
Just before they crossed her wake David sang out to Jack:
“Our masts—are they sound?”
“Bran-new, sir; best Norway pine.”
“What d'ye think?”
“Think we are wasting time and daylight.”
“Then stand by the main sheet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Slack the main sheet.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”