CHAPTER XVII.
“And winds of all the corners kissed your sails
To make your vessel nimble.”
Cymbeline.
“Had not their bark been very slow of sail.”
Comedy of Errors.
The grey dawn of the morning found the crew of the man-of-war busily at work. The unwieldly machines clanked and reclanked as the sturdy sailors heartily threw their whole strength upon them, in raising the heavy sails and weighty anchor.
As soon as there was sufficient light to see, watches, who were provided with the most powerful telescopes, were sent up to the very top of the tall masts to survey the horizon, in order to discover, if possible, the pirate vessel, which was supposed to be hovering about at no great distance.
After a careful survey, the report was made, that far out to leeward there was a sail—that it was apparently a vessel which was lying to.
“Look again,” shouted out the officer of the watch, “what is she like? is she square-rigged?”