They were still several miles away, however, and could not see whether the wreck was boarded by those in the small boat or not.
“It strikes me,” began Mr. Coffin after a prolonged gazing through his glass at the wreck, “that that doesn’t have the same appearance as that vessel the boys are on. What do you think, Mr. Wetherbee?”
Caleb had doubts in that direction himself.
“I tell ye what it is,” he said: “the Success had a mast for’ard. This one hain’t.”
“It’s my opinion that’s the hull of a brig, just the same,” Mr. Coffin declared.
Suddenly Caleb uttered an exclamation.
“That’s no steamship,” he declared. “See her colors and open ports. Why, it’s a man o’ war!”
“Right you are,” returned the mate.
“It’s the Kearsarge,” added Mr. Bolin. “She was to come down this way, you know. Going to the West Indies.”
“One of her duties was to blow up derelicts—the Silver Swan among them. Suppose this hull is the Swan!” cried Mr. Coffin.