They were within two hundred leagues of Cape Cod on the New England coast, and they were congratulating themselves on having escaped the vigilance of the enemy's cruisers, for they had a valuable cargo aboard, destined for Boston, when the following incident happened. Seven bells had just sounded in the middle watch, and both Jamie and Jack were on duty, perched on the crosstrees in the foretop. It was very cold up there, and they were both longing for the end of the watch that they might descend and warm themselves at the galley fire and appease their ravenous hunger before turning in for a sleep. Day was just breaking away to the east, but ahead it was still dark and a little cloudy. Suddenly, through a rift in the clouds, over there in the north-west, towards the coast of the French Canadas, Jamie saw a tiny speck, low down on the horizon. He was about to hail the deck, but first pointed it out to Jack.
"What can it be?"
"Take the glass, Jamie. My hands are so numbed and cold I cannot keep it still."
Jamie took the telescope, and steadying himself for an instant, he leaned against the mast and held the glass to his eye. As he brought it to bear on that speck, the cry involuntarily burst from his lips--
"A sail! A sail!"
"Where away?" called the first mate from the deck.
"On the starboard bow, sir, north-west by west."
"What do you make of her?"
"Can't raise her hull yet, sir, but she must be a big ship, for she carries a good head of canvas."
Almost instantly the mate was up in the fore-top, carefully examining the stranger. As he did so a grave look crossed his face.