“That craft may be a smarter sailer than the schooner,” said Ethan to the mate, “but she’s not showing it. She’s been hanging there on that quarter all the way down.”
“That’s what I can’t understand,” said the mate. “I’m sure she could walk away from us were she so minded, but they are holding her in for some reason; they’ve got her out of the wind about half the time.”
No more was said about the shadowy craft for some time, until they were off Reedy Island; then the skipper came on deck at the mate’s request, and scanned the dark waters in search of her.
“Seems to me I do make out something,” he said, rather anxiously. “Been following us down the river, has she?”
“Yes; and she’s headed for us now,” said Ethan, whose eyes were keener than his elder’s. He gazed at the vessel which, sure enough, was now rapidly coming up with them; suddenly he grasped the arm of his companion. “Shamus,” he breathed, “I was right.”
“About what?” asked the Irish soldier.
“About the shallop. That’s the same vessel.”
The captain of the Island Queen turned upon the boy.
“Do you mean the shallop that lay in the dock next us?” asked he.
“I feel sure of it,” answered Ethan.