"It looks like it; but don't say anything yet."
"What can it be?" asked Herman.
"It is Cape Ortegal, if it is anything, on the northwest corner of Spain. We can tell, in a few hours after we come up with the cape, how they head her."
They watched the dark, hazy line for half an hour longer, and then shouted, "Land, ho!" The announcement made a sensation among the runaways, but it afforded no revelation of the purposes of the vice-principal. Still the Josephine sped on her way, and in a few hours was up with Cape Ortegal. She kept on the same course, with the coast of Spain in sight, till dark. Mr. Fluxion remained on deck; for he attended to the navigation himself. At twelve o'clock at night, the first part of the port watch came on deck, and Little and Ibbotson tried to ascertain where they were. The tell-tale still indicated southwest by west as the course. A bright light on the shore bore south-east by south. Mr. Fluxion watched the light and the compass.
"Keep her south-west by south," said he to the hands at the wheel.
"South-west by south," repeated one of the seamen.
"Trim the sails, Mr. Peaks," added the vice-principal.
"Ay, ay! sir. Man the fore-sheet! Now walk away with it! Avast! Belay!" said the acting first officer; and the manœuvre was repeated upon the mainsail.
The yards were trimmed for the new course, and there was nothing more to be done. The seamen not occupied at the helm, or on the lookout, stowed themselves away in comfortable places.
"We are going nearly south now," said Ibbotson, as he and Little seated themselves under the weather rail.