After breakfast they resumed their observations. It was nearly eight bells when Ned, who had been stationed in the bow with the powerful glasses, cried out:
“I see something.”
“Where?” asked Mr. De Vere eagerly.
“Off the left.”
Mr. De Vere took the glasses and peered long and anxiously through them at a small speck which Ned pointed out as it rose and fell on the crest of the billows.
“Is it the derelict?” asked Jerry, appearing in the companionway.
“I don’t know,” answered Ned. “It looks like some sort of a ship, but I’m afraid to be positive, because we’ve had so many false alarms.”
“It’s some sort of a ship,” remarked Mr. De Vere suddenly as he passed the glasses to Jerry. “I make it out to be a brig, and, from the way it is jibing about, it seems to be under no control. See what you think.”
Jerry took a careful look.
“It’s a brig, sure enough,” he declared, “and I can’t see any sign of life on her.”