"Yonder she lies, riding at anchor. The light is very dim, for the moon you see sir, is just about going down, and presently we will be in the dark," said the man of navigation.
Roderic glued his eyes on the indistinct form of what appeared to be a steamer, but beyond this fact he was unable to hazard a guess.
"I see her plainly enough, but what makes you imagine or believe she may be the vessel I am so anxious about?" he asked.
Captain Beven was not at all offended.
He knew Roderic had no idea of questioning his ability to determine such matters, but was only curious to hear the clinching of the argument by such means as he might advance.
Hence, he made answer in the way Roderic most desired, laying down the logic of events in quick succession.
Beven, if he had any peculiarity, was rather inclined to speaking rapidly, and without any useless flow of language.
Like Grant and other great men of like calibre, of whom history is full, he believed in getting at the kernel of matters in the least possible stretch of time.
"Something familiar about her appearance, even seen under such disadvantages. Never forget the cut of a boat on which I have sailed. Then I heard her bell sound—do you know, there are bells and bells—some have a peculiar ring that you would recognize if you heard it on a camel in Egypt. The Sterling Castle had such a bell—I never heard one just like it until a short bit ago when it sounded four strokes. I tell you sir, it made me jump and rub my eyes, half believing I was officer of the deck again on board the stanch old Sterling Castle. And last but not least, there came a man from the shore rowing past and heading for some German ship over yonder. I hailed him, and as he came alongside asked him the question. As near as I could make out he said he believed she was called the Sherwin Castle, and had just arrived two hours before sundown. That settled it, sir."
"I should think it did, captain. And so that is the boat. So near and yet so far. It is very aggravating, captain."