“They are!” said Quoin, “’aven’t I just said so?”

At that instant, one of the chaps in the other watch, poked his head in through the starboard doorway.

“All hands shorten sail!” he sung out; at the same moment the Mate’s whistle came sharp along the decks.

Plummer stood up, and reached for his cap.

“Well,” he said.  “It’s evydent they ain’t goin’ ter lose no more of us!”

Then we went out on deck.

It was a dead calm; but all the same, we furled the three royals, and then the three t’gallants.  After that, we hauled up the main and foresail, and stowed them.  The crossjack, of course, had been furled some time, with the wind being plumb aft.

It was while we were up at the foresail, that the sun went over the edge of the horizon.  We had finished stowing the sail, out upon the yard, and I was waiting for the others to clear in, and let me get off the foot-rope.  Thus it happened that having nothing to do for nearly a minute, I stood watching the sun set, and so saw something that otherwise I should, most probably, have missed.  The sun had dipped nearly half-way below the horizon, and was showing like a great, red dome of dull fire.  Abruptly, far away on the starboard bow, a faint mist drove up out of the sea.  It spread across the face of the sun, so that its light shone now as though it came through a dim haze of smoke.  Quickly, this mist or haze grew thicker; but, at the same time, separating and taking strange shapes, so that the red of the sun struck through ruddily between them.  Then, as I watched, the weird mistiness collected and shaped and rose into three towers.  These became more definite, and there was something elongated beneath them.  The shaping and forming continued, and almost suddenly I saw that the thing had taken on the shape of a great ship.  Directly afterwards, I saw that it was moving.  It had been broadside on to the sun.  Now it was swinging.  The bows came round with a stately movement, until the three masts bore in a line.  It was heading directly towards us.  It grew larger; but yet less distinct.  Astern of it, I saw now that the sun had sunk to a mere line of light.  Then, in the gathering dusk it seemed to me that the ship was sinking back into the ocean.  The sun went beneath the sea, and the thing I had seen became merged, as it were, into the monotonous greyness of the coming night.

A voice came to me from the rigging.  It was the Second Mate’s.  He had been up to give us a hand.

“Now then, Jessop,” he was saying.  “Come along! come along!”

I turned quickly, and realised that the fellows were nearly all off the yard.

“i, i, Sir,” I muttered, and slid in along the foot-rope, and went down on deck.  I felt fresh dazed and frightened.

A little later, eight bells went, and, after roll call, I cleared up, on to the poop, to relieve the wheel.  For a while as I stood at the wheel my mind seemed blank, and incapable of receiving impressions.  This sensation went, after a time, and I realised that there was a great stillness over the sea.  There was absolutely no wind, and even the everlasting creak, creak of the gear seemed to ease off at times.