“Yes, sir,” I answered, “if she hasn’t gone down!”
“I hope not, my boy,” said he; “but I’m very much afraid she has, or else we’ve passed ahead of her.”
“That’s not likely, sir,” I replied. “She looked as if crossing our track when I last saw her; and, though we were going slower then, we must be gaining on her now, I should think.”
“We ought to be,” said he. “We must be going seventeen knots at the least with wind and steam.”
“Aye, aye, sir, all that,” corroborated old Masters, the boatswain, who had come up on the bridge unnoticed. “Beg pardon, sir, but we can’t carry on much longer with all that sail forrad. The fore-topmast is a-complainin’ like anythink, I can tell ye, sir. Chirvell, the carpenter, and me’s examinin’ it and we thinks it’s got sprung at the cap, sir.”
“If that’s the case, my man,” said Captain Applegarth to this, “we’d better take in sail at once. It’s a pity, too, with such a fine wind. I was just going to spare the engines and ease down for a bit, trusting to our sails alone, but if there’s any risk of the spars going, as you say, wrong, we must reduce our canvas instead.”
“There’s no help for it, sir,” returned the boatswain quickly. “Either one or t’other must go! Shall I pass the word, sir, to take in sail?”
“Aye, take in the rags!”
“Fo’c’s’le, ahoy there!” yelled Masters instantly, taking advantage of the long-desired permission. “All hands take in sail!”
We had hauled the trysails and other fore and aft canvas, which was comparatively useless to a steamer when running before the wind at the time we had altered course towards the south, in quest of the ship in distress, the Star of the North speeding along with only her fore-topsail and fore-topgallantsail set in addition to her fore-topmast staysail and mizzen staysail and jib.