The mate and Frank walked further aft and looked out under the boom.  The land was plainly visible against the glow of the sky.

“There it is, sure enough,” the mate said.  “I looked over there before you came up and could not make it out, but the sky has brightened a lot in the last ten minutes.  I should say that it is about five-and-twenty miles away.  It is a very bold coast, sir.

“That is Finisterre over the quarter; you see the land breaks off suddenly there.  We ought to have made out the light, but of course it is not very bright at this distance, and there was a slight mist on the water when I came up at eight bells.”

“I suppose in another forty-eight hours we shall not be far from the southern point of Portugal.”

“We shall be there, or thereabouts, by that time if the wind keeps the same strength and in the same quarter.  That would make an uncommonly good run of it, considering that we were lying twenty-four hours becalmed.  If it had not been for that, we should have been only four days from the Start to Saint Vincent.”

The mate’s calculations turned out correct, and at seven in the morning they anchored a mile off Cape Saint Vincent.  The gig was lowered, and Frank was rowed ashore, taking with him a signal book in which questions were given in several languages, including Spanish.  He had purchased it at Cowes before starting.

The signal officer was very polite, and fortunately understood a little English.  So Frank managed, with the aid of the book, to make him understand his questions.  No craft at all answering to the description had been noticed passing during the last five or six days; certainly no yacht had passed.  She might, of course, have gone by after dark.

He showed Frank the record of the ships that had been sighted going east, and of those that had made their numbers as they passed.  The Phantom was not among the latter, nor did the rig or approximate tonnage, as guessed, of any of the others, at all correspond with hers.

After thanking the officer, Frank returned to his boat, and half an hour later the Osprey was again under weigh.

At Ceuta, Tarifa, and Tangier there was a similar want of success.  Such a craft might have passed, but if so she was either too far away to be noted, or had passed during the night.  From Tangier he crossed to Gibraltar, and anchored among the shipping there.

So far everything had gone to confirm his theory that the Phantom would not go up the Mediterranean.  Of course, she might have passed the three places, as well as Saint Vincent, at night; or have kept so nearly in the middle of the Strait as to pass without being remarked.  Still, the chances were against it, and he regarded it as almost certain that she would have put into one or other of the African ports, as she passed them, for water, fresh meat and fruit.

It was six days after the Osprey passed Saint Vincent before she anchored off Gib.  She had made her number as she came in, and in a short time the health officer came out in a boat.  The visit was a formal one; the white ensign on her taffrail was in itself sufficient to show her character, and that she must have come straight from England; and the questions asked were few and brief.