Most of the crew ran to the side of the vessel, as did the men at the brakes. Tom did not order them back, for he saw that there would be no use in doing so.
As the day had worn along, the discipline of the ship had begun to go pretty much to pieces, and there had been great difficulty in keeping the men at the brakes. I think that they, like Jack and Tom, had gotten a notion that the ship was doomed, for, though they worked when they were ordered, it was in a dull, stolid way, as though they had no interest in it one way or another. Tom had tried to do all that lay in him to keep them going, and I think that it was only through his urging that they were kept at it at all.
So now they all left the pumps and ran to the side of the vessel to get a look at the sail.
At first it was seen like a flickering speck in the dull, grey distance, but it presently rose higher and higher as the Nancy Hazlewood held on her course. Jack Baldwin was on the poop when the vessel was first sighted; he did not lose a moment, but went straightway and reported it to the captain, who presently came upon deck from his cabin. He had wound a red scarf about his waist, and had thrust a brace of large pistols in it. There was an odd look about him, that at first led Tom to think that he had been drinking, but he soon found that he was wrong. Whatever it was that had led him to rig himself up in this style, it was not drink.
He stood silently with the glass at his eye, looking at the distant sail that the Nancy Hazlewood was slowly raising above the horizon. He did not seem to notice that the men had left the pumps; at least he made no remark upon it. Minute after minute passed, until at last the hull of the vessel hove in sight and showed her to be a large barque—apparently, from the cut of her sails, an English merchantman. She came within about three miles of them, but Captain Knight neither gave orders to have the course of the Hazlewood altered, or signals of distress run up. Every moment Tom expected to hear such an order, but none passed the captain’s lips. Presently, he shut the tube of the glass sharply, and then he spoke.
“She’s too large for us to tackle in our present condition,” said he.
“Tackle!” burst out Jack. “My G—d! You didn’t think of fighting that vessel, did you?”
Captain Knight turned sharply upon him, as though he were about to say something; but he seemed to think better of it, for he swung on his heel, as though to enter his cabin again.
Then Jack Baldwin strode directly up to him. “Captain Knight,” said he, and he did not so much as touch his hat, “a’n’t you going to signal that vessel?”
His voice rang like a bell, and every man aboard of the sinking ship heard it, and listened eagerly for the captain’s answer. Captain Knight stood where he was, and looked Jack from top to toe, and back again.