More than half the breadth of the sea had been traversed when the look-out one morning shouted—
"Sail ho! Sail ho!"
"Where away?" roared the captain from the poop.
"Right abeam, and coming towards us," was the response after a moment's hesitation.
At once there was much excitement on board. The members of the expedition took it for granted that this was one of the other ships from which they had long parted company, and began to speculate which one it was, and whether it would overtake them.
"I was hoping ours would be the first vessel to reach Darien," said Mr. Sutherland to Donalblane. "It would be something to boast of considering what a poor thing she is. I wonder which one of the others this is?"
"Ye canna tell so far away," responded Donalblane. "Maybe it winna catch us. We're sailing fine now."
The Bonnie Scotland certainly was doing wonders, but in spite of every inch of canvas her sticks could carry being spread, the other ship gained steadily, and the captain's grim countenance grew darker and darker.
Mr. Paterson's fine features also became perturbed, although he kept his own counsel, and those who noticed supposed he was simply anxious that the Bonnie Scotland should win the race to Darien.
As the afternoon advanced the pursuing vessel, which seemed to be sailing two knots to the other's one, came fully into view, and everybody on board saw that it not only was not one of the five which had set out from Leith, but that it bore a strange look which somehow seemed to bode no good.