I put my eye to the telescope, which the midshipman continued to hold steady against the rigging, and sure enough, just a little way over the horizon, was the equator, a thin, very well-defined line, showing against the light azure of the sky like a delicate ruling in ink.
“Thee it?” cried Kennet.
“Yes,” said I, eagerly staring; “but it’s up in the air, Poole.”
“Refraction, man, refraction,” he answered; “it always shows like that.”
I sent a glance with my naked eye, and then peered again through the telescope.
“When shall we be able to see it without a glass?” I asked.
“I PUT MY EYE TO THE TELESCOPE.”
“That’ll depend upon the thtate of the weather,” answered Kennet.
“But do we sail under it?”