"Where away has it been sighted, lookout?" called the commander.
"Off our windward quarter, captain."
"Maintain your watch, sir, and report if there is any change."
"They have sighted land," whispered Jack. "It must be one of the islands lying off the Venezuelan coast."
Both of his companions could not help feeling a thrill of pleasure at this announcement, while they hoped it might lead to their speedy escape from their present uncertain situation. But, from their position, no trace of the looked-for shore could be discovered, and it is safe to say no three upon the vessel watched and waited for the morning light with greater anxiety than the two young engineers and their faithful companion.
At different intervals the lookout announced the situation as viewed from his vantage ground, but no satisfactory word came until the dawn of day, when even those upon deck saw in plain sight the shore of one of the tropical islands dotting the sea.
While our friends were looking on the scene with intense interest, Francisco de Caprian passed by them, whispering as he did so:
"The island of Curacao. It looks as though we were going to touch at the port."
He did not stop for any reply from our party, but Jack said to his companions a moment later:
"If I am not mistaken Curacao belongs to the Dutch. It is about fifty miles from the Venezuelan coast, and westward of Caracas."