Theodori at once began to issue orders, and in a tone that showed that, once appointed, he meant to be obeyed. He called up the six men who were sailors and, after a few questions, soon learned how to place them. One he sent to the helm with instructions to keep the ship's head North; two others were made first and second officers respectively of the watch; a fourth was to be boatswain. The other two would take their turns at the tiller. He decided to keep the first watch himself.
When he had made all his arrangements, he gave orders for the men to have their rations. Then a man was placed on the look-out, and all turned in for the rest they so well deserved and greatly needed.
The night passed uneventfully and the morning broke bright and clear; then earnestly was the horizon scanned by all, Theodori standing by the helmsman with the telescope to his eye. Presently he started almost imperceptibly; astern of them a little to their port, he had discerned a small white speck—a sail in the far distance; the hull was not yet visible. Probably it was in pursuit of them, and Black Ali was on board. The captain cast his eyes up to the sails; they no longer filled out bravely, as on the night before, but swayed limply in and out, as the wind first came in little puffs, then fell away; sometimes they even flapped against the masts, for the breeze had died away, though still dead aft of them; the dhow was making but little way. For the moment the Greek looked anxious; the vessel in their wake was a much larger one, with greater sailing power; then his face brightened and a smile of triumph passed across it. What had seemed to forecast their destruction might prove the saving of them. The pursuing vessel's progress depended solely on the wind; the dhow had added propulsive power in the strong arms of her men. Even in a dead calm they could keep on their course.
"A sail astern of us," he said, and the cry was repeated by the crew. Then he called the boatswain.
"Man the sweeps," he said, "and change the gang every hour. Every man must do his best, until that ship is out of sight."
The men obeyed the orders with alacrity, St. Just and Mahmoud being the first to seize a sweep between them. Soon, assisted by the little wind there was, the ship had a fair way on her. Gradually the rowers' efforts began to tell; the vessel in their wake grew less and less and, in two hours, not a trace of her could be seen. But still the men rowed on, a fresh set being put on each hour; they required no urging to their work; they had too much at stake for that.
They saw no more of their pursuer, if such she was. Occasionally they sighted other vessels on both sides of them, but far away.
A few days passed, their freedom ever nearing consummation, and, at last, from the look-out man rang out the welcome cry of "Land ahead."
At first there seemed only a long, low, far-off cloud, but to the seaman's practiced eye it was the goal of all his hopes. The rowers were not now at work, for the wind had freshened, and a good stiff breeze was blowing. Rapidly the land grew more distinct, and presently Theodori, who was at the bow, viewing through his glass the line of coast, which he knew well, exclaimed,
"Sicily! Our nearest port will be Marsala: we will make for it."