"Then we had all sail on."
Page 78.
We all kept a sharp lookout for the Islander, but as yet we saw nothing of her. She had, at least, ten miles the start of us, and it was likely to be a long chase, if she continued on her course. I wanted very much to get a sight of her when we reached the bar at the mouth of the St. Johns, so as to determine what course she took.
No progress whatever had been made in solving the problem of the Islander's sudden departure without her owner and passengers. We could not imagine any motive on the part of her captain for his singular conduct. My father and Colonel Shepard talked about the matter all the time; but in the absence of any data they could not get ahead a particle.
In an hour and a half by the watch we were in sight of the bar. The weather looked thick and nasty outside, and there was not the slightest sign of the Islander. But we were still in the river, and our view to the north and south was obstructed by the trees and shrubs on the shores. It was plain enough to me by this time that Captain Blastblow had no intention of returning to Jacksonville for his passengers.
I kept the Sylvania on her course over the bar, and, as it was full tide, I had no fear of taking the bottom. We kept on our course till we had made a good offing. Though the fog had not settled down near the bar, vast piles of it were floating in the air. The question now was whether the Islander had gone to the north or the south. I had given the wheel to Hop Tossford, and I was using the glass very industriously in all quarters of the horizon.
"Sail, ho!" shouted Buck Lingley, who had taken his station on the cap of the foremast.
"Where away?" I shouted, sticking my head out the side window of the pilot-house.
"Right on the starboard beam," replied Buck.
As the fog lifted a minute later I got a glimpse of the sail.
"It is the Islander!" I shouted, not a little excited. "She is going to the southward."