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After a pause, during which he carefully scrutinised the vessel, "She has every appearance of being a frigate," the Admiral answered. "The Phœbe is bound to that port," again interrupted Mr Fellowes. "Who, then?".
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Conrad
Scarcely had the ball of satin-white smoke, belched from the cannon's mouth, been shredded by the wind and carried low over the heads of the breaking seas in rags and lengths like pieces of a torn silk veil, when the helm of the barque was put down, stun-sail halliards were let go, all in such a hurry that the sails fouled the booms and yard-arms, and painted a scene of confusion aloft, that might have stood as a perfect picture of panic[Pg 432] at sea; the yards on the main were laboriously hauled around and the main topsail backed and the barque was at rest, rolling and tumbling very uncomfortably with a great deal of flying and flapping aloft, one man at the wheel, two men standing close beside him in a posture of waiting, and the fore-part of the bulwarks from the gangway to the fore-rigging lined with the heads of the crew. Maurice shook his head. "It's maybe a cow!" he guessed hopefully. "Nice boys don't fight." Billy shifted his feet uneasily, the movement bringing him a step or two closer to the other. "Know him?".
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