The vessel was
hull down. There was nothing to see except a little canvas stretched
neatly aloft and ship-shape masts and spars. He observed her attentively
for some time. She seemed to be making very little headway. All in all,
Madden made little of the craft, so he handed the glass to Smith. The
Englishman was likewise puzzled, and the binoculars went down the line
of curious men.
There was something in the way the youth named Farnol Greer handled the
instrument that caused Madden to ask:
"What do you make out, Greer?"
"She is lying to, sir. She's backing her tops'ls flat against the
breeze, and her mains'l's reefed and drawing with it."
"Lying to!" cried three or four voices. "W'ot does she mean by that?
Looks as if she'd be bloomin' glad to get out o' such a bally place as
this!"
"Let me have another look." Madden resumed the binoculars.
Now that Madden's attention was called to this unusual disposition of
the sails, he could make out their position for himself.
This started another tide of speculation buzzing among the castaways.
Was the _Vulcan_ crippled? Had she run short of coal? But why
should she voluntarily lay-to in the very sight of her quarry?
"They're fishin'," surmised Deschaillon, "off in th' boats fishin';
they're weethout food also.
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