"We hardly wanted a signal for that, Greenly, since there can be no friendly force, here away; and fourteen sail, on this coast, always means mischief. What says the Chloe next?"
"'Strange sails on the larboard tack, heading as follows.'"
"By George, crossing our course!—We shall soon see them from deck. Do the ships astern notice the signals?"
"Every one of them, Sir Gervaise," answered the captain; "the Thunderer has just lowered her answering flag, and the Active is repeating. I have never seen quarter-masters so nimble!"
"So much the better—so much the better—down he comes; stand by for another."
After the necessary pause, the signal to denote the point of the compass was shown from the Chloe.
"Heading how, Bunting?" the vice-admiral eagerly inquired. "Heading how, sir?"
"North-west-and-by-north," or as Bunting pronounced it "nor-west-and-by-loathe, I believe, sir,—no, I am mistaken, Sir Gervaise; it is nor-nor-west."
"Jammed up like ourselves, hard on a wind! This gale comes directly from the broad Atlantic, and one party is crossing over to the north and the other to the south shore. We must meet, unless one of us run away—hey! Greenly?"
"True enough, Sir Gervaise; though fourteen sail is rather an awkward odds for seven."