The weather was fine, and Raoul keenly enjoyed dancing over the white-capped waves in their buoyant craft, which Joe and Jean managed with such matchless skill. They did not expect him to paddle, and so he stretched himself out in the bottom of the canoe and took his ease, the excitement and exertion of the past night having pretty thoroughly tired him.
For some hours no sign of the ship appeared, and then, as the afternoon drew towards its close, Joe's keen eyes descried a sail showing above the horizon to the southward.
"Good!" he grunted, and with a sweep of his paddle he turned the canoe in that direction.
"You paddle now," he said to Raoul, and the latter obeyed. Propelled by the three blades, into which the paddlers put their strength, the light craft bounded over the water towards the ship.
"Oh! I hope it is the Clement" said Raoul. "We shall be just in good time."
Mile after mile they swept along, until Raoul's arms began to ache, and his breath to become scant, but Joe and Jean were pegging away as vigorously as at first, and he hated to give up. They were nearing the ship rapidly, and ere long would be close enough to hail her, when, to their surprise, she came about, and went off on another tack, leaving them rapidly astern.
"Hullo!" exclaimed Raoul in a tone of consternation. "What did she do that for? We shall soon be farther away from her than we were at first."
Joe stopped paddling for a moment, and looked very cross. Then, rising to his full height, he swung the paddle above his head, hoping to attract the attention of some one on board the vessel. But it had no effect. The ship continued in her course, and, there being plenty of wind, her speed was so great as to make it useless for the canoe to follow her.
