“Well, that’s right, sir. Take a good long look. Now then, can’t you see it?”
There was silence for a few moments, and Morny, who was gazing upwards, seemed to be all eyes and ears.
“Can’t you see it, Master Rodd?” repeated Joe.
“No.”
“Perhaps ’tarn’t land, then, sir.”
“No. It was all your fancy. There’s nothing to be seen.”
“Where are you looking, sir?”
“At a little low bank of pale misty cloud. That’s all, Joe. Your eyes want a good rub.”
“Dessay they do, sir. They aren’t much account,” said the man; “but that caps what I saw,” and putting his hands to the sides of his mouth he yelled out in stentorian tones, “Land ho!”—a signal that was followed by the hurried shuffling sound of feet ascending to the deck.
“Here, what are you doing?” cried Rodd angrily. “Spreading a false alarm like that!”