"Until the Gigantic is warned."
"You're right, sir. Could you move down with the sun behind you? The yacht would be difficult to see."
"This cupola would shine against the sun. I wish we could make ourselves invisible."
"I think," he added, "the Gigantic will be lying with her head towards London, and if we keep on this course her look-out can't fail to sight us. That would be awkward, so put her hard a-port, and set her course nor'-west."
The yacht swung rapidly and steadied.
"Nor'-west it is, sir."
"We'll come down from the north," said Brand; "we should sight her broadside at thirty or forty miles."
"Good," cried the captain, "she'll hardly see us at five miles."
Not a word more was spoken until the coast of Ireland loomed ahead.
"Hard a-starboard."