“It would be no fun if we were caught, however,” answered Gerald; “but I hope that won’t happen. Depend on it, Mr Foley will do his best to keep clear of an enemy.”
Still some weeks had to be passed before the commander would consent to send off a boat, while not a vessel appeared in sight. The weather had remained fine for some time, but at length it gave signs of changing. One evening, as the commander, with several of the officers, were taking a quarter-deck walk on a piece of level ground near the flagstaff, occasionally sweeping the horizon with their glasses, now to the eastward, and now on the west side of the island, the commander, who had turned his in the latter direction, exclaimed, “There is a sail at last. Judging from her appearance she is a large craft; we shall soon ascertain how she is standing.”
The other glasses were turned towards the stranger, and in a few minutes the general opinion was that she was approaching the island. The wind was blowing pretty fresh from the south-west. Her topgallantsails had been above the horizon when she was first seen; gradually her topsails, then the heads of her courses, rose above the water. “Is she a friend or an enemy?” was the question asked by several of those watching her. Hopes, of course, were entertained that she might be the former. Gerald and Nat Kiddle thought that she must be a British man-of-war.
“See what a wide spread of canvas she has,” observed Gerald; “no merchant vessel would carry sails like that.”
“If so, then our chance of a trip in the boat is over,” said Nat.
The commander and his lieutenants discussed the subject earnestly.
“She is not a British ship,” exclaimed Mr Tarwig, who had been watching her attentively through his glass for a minute or more; “that craft out there is a Spaniard. She is coming here to see what we are about. Depend on it, the little craft we saw the other day has carried the information that we are here, and the Spaniards have come to turn us out, if they can.”
“I believe you are right,” observed the commander, after again examining the stranger. “We must be prepared for whatever may happen. If, as you suspect, yonder ship is a Spaniard, she comes with the intention of taking us. What say you, Mr Billhook?”
“I agree with the first lieutenant, sir,” answered the master.
“And what is your opinion, Foley?”