Seven bells had struck, and it was near midnight, when, after taking a long and scrutinizing survey of the horizon, he crossed the deck towards the earl, and said, with impatient disappointment,
"We are safe enough, my lord. There will be no one to trouble us to-night."
"I am glad it is so, Kenard. You may have been mistaken in his character."
"No. But he probably has discovered what we are, and has thought better of it. Ha! did not the main-topgallant-sail flap then?" he asked, looking aloft.
"The wind is lulling, I believe," said the earl.
"It is, by Heaven!" exclaimed the seaman. "What headway do we make? Heave the log."
"She logs full four, but makes not above three and a half knots way," repeated the officer of the deck.
"We have a strong current setting to the south and east in our favour by the dip of this ripple, which will make it four again. Ten minutes ago we were running eight! There is a chance of exchanging compliments with our neighbour, my lord; yet I have done my best to keep out of his way."
"But, if we have no wind, he must be in the same situation."
"He will have it first, and bring it along with him. There was a wind-bag hanging over the sun that will soon be piping a merry note. There flaps the fore-topsail against the mast! The wind is leaving us. She does not now move two knots through the water," he added, glancing over the side. "We shall have it dead calm in ten minutes. Take in the lower stun'sails, Howel, and stand by to hand all the light canvass! we shall have it soon! Preparation is half the victory, my lord," he added, turning to the earl with a formal bow.