The strange ship already appeared surprisingly distinct for a vessel that lay below the horizon; and on looking at her through the glass, this distinctness became more startling. Most of her sails were furled, or rather, there appeared to be no sails at all, except the jib. The fore and main-top gallant masts were gone. She appeared, indeed, to have encountered a storm, in which she had lost her spars, and the present calm seemed very little in accordance with her appearance.
The comments which the boys made upon the appearance of the stranger excited Captain Corbet’s curiosity to such a degree that he surmounted his prejudices, and condescended to look through the glass. His astonishment at the result was due rather to his own ignorance of glasses than to anything in the strange ship; but after he had become somewhat more familiar with the instrument, he began to pay attention to the object of his scrutiny.
“The fact is,” said he, after a long and careful search, “it doos railly look jest for all the world as if that thar craft has been in a storm, and lost her spars and sails. Perhaps he’s in distress. Perhaps they’re watching us more anxiously than we’re watching them.”
“I wonder if they can see us?” said Bruce.
“I’m afraid not,” said Bart, “we’re so small.”
“But they’ve got a glass.”
“Yes, and they’d be sweeping the horizon for help.”
“I wish we could get nearer.”
“If they’re hard up, they might row to us.”
“Is it any use to signalize, captain?” asked Tom.