My tone must have given him an inkling that we had discovered something fresh; for, at my words, he made one spring, and stood on the spar, alongside of me.

“Look, Sir,” said Tammy.  “There’s four of them.”

The Second Mate glanced down, saw something and bent sharply forward.

“My God!” I heard him mutter, under his breath.

After that, for some half-minute, he stared, without a word.

“There are two more out there, Sir,” I told him, and indicated the place with my finger.

It was a little time before he managed to locate these and when he did, he gave them only a short glance.  Then he got down off the spar, and spoke to us.

“Come down off there,” he said, quickly.  “Get your brooms and clear up.  Don’t say a word!—­It may be nothing.”

He appeared to add that last bit, as an afterthought, and we both knew it meant nothing.  Then he turned and went swiftly aft.

“I expect he’s gone to tell the Old Man,” Tammy remarked, as we went forrard, carrying the mat and his sinnet.

“H’m,” I said, scarcely noticing what he was saying; for I was full of the thought of those four shadowy craft, waiting quietly down there.

We got our brooms, and went aft.  On the way, the Second Mate and the Skipper passed us.  They went forrard too by the fore brace, and got up on the spar.  I saw the Second point up at the brace and he appeared to be saying something about the gear.  I guessed that this was done purposely, to act as a blind, should any of the other men be looking.  Then the Old Man glanced down over the side, in a casual sort of manner; so did the Second Mate.  A minute or two later, they came aft, and went back, up on to the poop.  I caught a glimpse of the Skipper’s face as he passed me, on his return.  He struck me as looking worried—­bewildered, perhaps, would be a better word.

Both Tammy and I were tremendously keen to have another look; but when at last we got a chance, the sky reflected so much on the water, we could see nothing below.

We had just finished sweeping up when four bells went, and we cleared below for tea.  Some of the men got chatting while they were grubbing.

“I ’ave ‘eard,” remarked Quoin, “as we’re goin’ ter shorten ’er down afore dark.”

“Eh?” said old Jaskett, over his pannikin of tea.

Quoin repeated his remark.

“’oo says so?” inquired Plummer.

“I ’eard it from ther Doc,” answered Quoin, “’e got it from ther Stooard.”

“’ow would ’ee know?” asked Plummer.

“I dunno,” said Quoin.  “I ’spect ’e’s ’eard ’em talkin’ ’bout it arft.”

Plummer turned to me.

“’ave you ‘eard anythin’, Jessop?” he inquired.

“What, about shortening down?” I replied.

“Yes,” he said.  “Weren’t ther Old Man talkin’ ter yer, up on ther poop this mornin’?”

“Yes,” I answered.  “He said something to the Second Mate about shortening down; but it wasn’t to me.”