"We are too near to be pleasant," Geoffrey said, "for they can see us as plainly as we can see the land. It is to be hoped that a breeze may spring up from the south before long and enable us to creep off the land. Unless I am greatly mistaken I can see the masts of some craft or other in a line with those white houses over there."
"I don't see them," Gerald replied, gazing intently in the direction in which Geoffrey pointed.
"Let us go up to the top, Gerald; we shall see her hull from there plainly enough."
On reaching the top Gerald saw at once that his friend's eyes had not deceived him.
"Yes, there is a vessel there sure enough, Geoffrey. I cannot see whether she has one or two masts, for her head is in this direction."
"That is not the worst of it," Geoffrey said, shading his eyes and gazing intently on the distant object. "She is rowing; I can see the light flash on her oars every stroke. That is a Moorish galley, and she is coming out towards us."
"I believe you are right," Gerald replied after gazing earnestly for some time. "Yes, I saw the flash of the oars then distinctly."
They at once descended to the deck and informed the captain of what they had seen. He hastily mounted to the top.
"There is no mistake about it," he said after looking intently for a short time; "it is one of the Barbary corsairs, and she is making out towards us. The holy saints preserve us from these bloodthirsty infidels."
"The saints will do their work if we do ours," Gerald remarked; "and we had best do as large a share as possible. What is the number of your crew, captain?"