Chapter 7 - Page 2

yet answer. Maybe
I shall be able to find out from what I hear and see ere I make my
escape, if escape be possible.

The _Ebba_ continues on her way in the same mysterious manner. I am
free to walk about the deck, without, however, being able to go beyond
the fore hatchway. Once I attempted to go as far as the bows where I
could, by leaning over, perceive the schooner's stem as it cut through
the water, but acting, it was plain, on orders received, the watch
on deck turned me back, and one of them, addressing me brusquely in
harsh, grating English, said:

"Go back! Go back! You are interfering with the working of the ship!"

With the working of the ship! There was no working.

Did they realize that I was trying to discover by what means the
schooner was propelled? Very likely, and Captain Spade, who had looked
on, must have known it, too. Even a hospital attendant could not fail
to be astonished at the fact that a vessel without either screw or
sails was going along at such a speed. However this may be, for some
reason or other, the bows of the _Ebba_ are barred to me.

Toward ten o'clock a breeze springs up--a northwest wind and very
favorable--and Captain Spade gives an order to the boatswain. The
latter immediately pipes all hands on deck, and the mainsail, the
foresail, staysail and jibs are hoisted. The work could not have been
executed with greater regularity and discipline on board a man-of-war.

The _Ebba_ now has a slight list to port, and her speed is notably
increased. But the motor continues to push her along, as is evident
from the fact that the sails are not always as full as they ought
to be if the schooner were bowling along solely under their action.
However, they continue to render yeoman's service, for the breeze has
set in steadily.

The sky is clear, for the clouds in the west disappear as soon as they
attain the horizon, and the sunlight dances on the water.

My preoccupation now is to find out as near as possible where we
are bound for. I am a good-enough sailor to be able to estimate
the approximate speed of a ship. In my opinion the _Ebba_ has been
travelling at the rate of from ten to eleven knots an hour. As to the
direction we have been going in, it is always the same, and I have
been able to verify this by casual glances at the binnacle. If the
fore part of the vessel is barred to Warder Gaydon he has been allowed
a free run of the remainder of it. Time and again I have glanced at
the compass, and noticed that the needle invariably pointed to the
east, or to be exact, east-southeast.

These are the conditions in which we are navigating this part of the
Atlantic Ocean, which is bounded on the west by the coast of the