Chapter 43 - Page 2

It was as well that the captain had warned me; otherwise, I
should have raised an involuntary shout of joy; as it was, I had
the greatest difficulty in restraining my expressions of delight.

"Look behind to larboard," he continued in an undertone.

Affecting an indifference which I was far from feeling, I cast an
anxious glance to that quarter of the horizon of which he spoke,
and there, although mine is not a nautical eye, I could plainly
distinguish the outline of a ship under sail.

Almost at the same moment the boatswain who happened to be
looking in the same direction, raised the cry, "Ship ahoy!"

Whether it was that no one believed it, or whether all energies
were exhausted, certain it is that the announcement produced none
of the effects that might have been expected. Not a soul
exhibited the slightest emotion, and it was only when the
boatswain had several times sung out his tidings that all eyes
turned to the horizon. There, most undeniably, was the ship, and
the question rose at once to the minds of all, and to the lips of
many, "Would she see us?"

The sailors immediately began discussing the build of the vessel,
and made all sorts of conjectures as to the direction she was
taking. Curtis was far more deliberate in his judgment. After
examining her attentively for some time, he said, "She is a brig
running close upon the wind, on the starboard tack, If she keeps
her course for a couple of hours, she will come right athwart our
track."

A couple of hours! The words sounded to our ears like a couple
of centuries. The ship might change her course at any moment;
closely trimmed as she was, it was very probable that she was
only tacking about to catch the wind, in which case, as soon as
she felt a breeze, she would resume her larboard tack and make
away again. On the other hand, if she were really sailing with
the wind, she would come nearer to us, and there would be good
ground for hope.

Meantime, no exertion must be spared, and no means left untried,
to make our position known. The brig was about twelve miles to
the east of us, so that it was out of the question to think of
any cries of ours being overheard; but Curtis gave directions
that every possible signal should be made. We had no fire-arms
by which we could attract attention, and nothing else occurred to
us beyond hoisting a flag of distress. Miss Herbey's red shawl,
as being of a colour most distinguishable against the background
of sea and sky, was run up to the mast-head, and was caught by
the light breeze that just then was ruffling the surface of the
water. As a drowning man clutches at a straw, so our hearts
bounded with hope every time that our poor flag fluttered in the