"She 's heading straight toward us under low pressure. There are two
men on the bridge, and a lookout on the bow. Now she 's swinging to
port to bring up close. There 's a group at the rail near the
starboard gangway. About ten, I should say. Can you see, Viola?"
"Twelve," she answered quietly, "and three forward. The third man at
the rail is the Captain, and he has a glass."
"By George! you are right. I recognize the fellow now. Broussard is
on the bridge. They expect no trouble, Lieutenant, and only have the
regular watch on deck. They are getting too close for me to talk any
more."
It was indeed a beautiful picture had we only been in a mind to enable
us to enjoy the scene. The deserted ocean, rolling gray and dismal
under the cloudy sky, white caps showing in every direction as our boat
was flung helplessly aloft on the steady roll of the sea. The coast
line was not visible from our elevation, and nothing broke the gray
round of horizon but clouds of floating vapor, slowly drifting away
before the sun, which was already yielding a faint crimson glow to the
east. Behind us, probably two miles distant, arose the rough ridge of
Cosmos Island, while bearing down upon us from the north, with a
westward sheer sufficient to expose her beautiful lines, came the _Sea
Gull_.
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