“Steer very steady.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
Such were the rapid questions and answers exchanged immediately after the cry of “Sail, ho!” from the mast-head man.
The shovelling of coal, and banging of furnace doors, might be distinctly heard from the engine-room, on the quarter-deck.
The whole ship was in a commotion. Cape Corrientes in sight, and a strange sail reported to seaward.
The ward-room officers had just sat down to dinner, when the cry of “Sail, ho!” made them all, with the exception of the doctor, who was too fond of creature comforts, rush upon deck. The master repaired to the steering-wheel, to superintend the steerage of the vessel.
The senior lieutenant walked quietly forward to the forecastle, and cast his scrutinizing eyes on the “long gun,” and then on the stranger. The second lieutenant, unbidden, bent his way up the fore-rigging, his telescope slung over his shoulder, and perched himself on the fore-topmast crosstrees. Over his head, leaning on the fore-top-gallant-yard, he perceived Mr. Bliss, telescope in hand, examining the stranger.
Mr. Midshipman Bliss, who had kept the forenoon watch, having dined, and worked out the position of the ship, for want of some more interesting occupation, had betaken himself to sleep, and was having a very comfortable “caulk” when the cry of “Sail, ho!” had disturbed him in a pleasant dream of home and promotion.
With a sort of instinct he rushed immediately to the mast-head, and although only half awake, he was able to make out that the stranger was long, low, and rakish.
To the lieutenant’s hurried inquiry, “What do you make of her?” Mr. Bliss replied, “Well, sir, I do not know whether it is the haze or the sleep in my eyes, but she appears to loom very large.”