"The vessel alongside can be none other than the San Josef," said Tom Horn, "and next her should be the Dutch ship of the line; then comes the Salem merchantman whose goods served me so well while I was captive here, and then the ancient galley whose deck was so rotted that I never ventured to stand on it. Then there follow others, ship on ship," the pointing finger moving slowly across the chart; "I know them all, and could number them as one numbers the shops and houses in a street."
"Except the new ones," said Anthony.
"Hah!" said Tom Horn. "The new ones to be sure. Here and there you find a new ship—and wedged in where you would never expect her. It's as though the fear of the place came upon them; they dread being outside, alone, and force their way among the others for companionship and protection. The Salem ship was a new one while I was here; and yet she had gotten herself between the Dutchman and the galley—two very old vessels, indeed."
"But where," asked mademoiselle, "is the Rufus Stevens? In what part of this sea are we to look for her?"
"We do not know what winds hastened or hindered her," said the clerk. "Hulks pitch slowly along through the sea and may be many months going a short way, or their movements may be quickened by steady winds. I have considered all that is possible, and I have put the possibilities into figures; the Rufus Stevens is surely here, but she has been here no great while," and the man's eyes kindled with their strange glow. "No, she has but lately arrived; we shall find her somewhere on the edge of this concourse, and at no great distance from where we are now lying. My calculations are close, and I have held in mind, not only the winds, but the power of the great circle; she must have drifted much as we have sailed, and this day should show us many things."
They ate their breakfasts and studied the chart, while Tom Horn expounded it; and while they were so engaged the sun worked its uncertain way through the mist; with banners fluttering and deep banks whirling, the fog broke before the lances of light; and strange things appeared upon the face of the sea. The broken ships were seen huddled in the still waters, some on level keel, others stern down and bowsprit pointed at the sky, others with stern high and down by the head. Green slime streaked their rotting planks; pale, horrible-looking fungus grew thickly upon rails and housing; flocks of vulture-like birds rested upon them; the sea all about was massed with decaying weed and timbers.
"It is as I thought; it is the San Josef," said Tom Horn, when they reached the deck. He pointed to the vast wooden wall which arose, sheer, alongside them; up and up it went, and Anthony counted three great decks; the stern towered like a castle, and had been pierced by a dozen windows; the huge sides grinned with ports where brass cannon had once threatened the stout English sea-thieves. Traces of fire were about her timbers; the fungus growth seemed all that held her together.
"Taken, looted, and burned," said Anthony. "A treasure-galleon, like as not, and the prey of a Cumberland, a Drake, or a Morgan, years ago."
Next the San Josef was a great Dutch ship; she was almost as tall in the stern as the Spaniard; her timbers had been splintered by the shot of some ancient battle, but the strength of her great dowels and cunningly wrought frame had kept her corpse whole. Beside the Dutchman floated the Salem merchantman, a sturdy ship and a swift one before fate overtook her, but small compared to the lumbering fighting craft of an older day. The galley spoken of by Tom Horn lay almost submerged; the green slippery planks of her bow stuck tragically out of the scum.
"If I could convince myself that it were possible," said Anthony, his eyes upon this craft, "I'd say she was of the Mediterranean, for there's been no galleys in the Atlantic these many years."