"The spectre ship, sir," one of them answered at last, trembling.
Trahern began to scan the vessel through his spy-glass.
"That's no spectre ship," he said after a short pause.
"What else could she be, sir? Would any mortal man carry sail in such a tempest? See how fast she approaches us! She does not heed the shock of the waves, but flies like a bird."
"That is no spectre ship," the captain repeated, "they are pirates."
"Living devils," muttered Philip.
"It must be Barthelemy," said Trahern. "What a pity that we cannot approach him, we would capture him at once. But who could fight in such a storm?"
The pirate swiftly approached the King Solomon. From time to time the waves concealed it, but the next instant it rose on their crests, still advancing.
"Those crazy fellows actually seem to be trying to meet us," said Trahern.
"Those are not men," replied Philip. "If men tried to cut through the waves in that fashion their ship would be battered to pieces."