The master took his dividers, measured the distance, applied the instrument to the margin of the chart, and announced the distance--"Seventy-six miles." "Good!" ejaculated the skipper. "And their bearing?" The master laid his parallel ruler down on the chart, with its edge passing through the dot representing the ship's position, and also through the Penmarks; then he carefully slid the ruler along the surface of the chart until that same edge passed through the centre of the compass diagram, and read off the bearing--"No'th-east, half east." The skipper turned sharply round to the quartermaster. "How's her head, quartermaster?" he demanded. The quartermaster glanced into the compass-bowl and answered, "No'-no'th-east, sir!" "Excellent!" exclaimed the skipper. "Why, at that rate, Mr Trimble, we shall pass outside Ushant, if we keep on as we are going now." "No doubt, sir," answered the master. "But in my opinion," he continued, "that's where the fellow we sighted a while ago is bound to," and he laid his forefinger on that part of the chart where the word Brest was legibly printed. "Ah!" ejaculated the skipper, "you are likely enough to be right. But he shall never get there, even if I have to drive the frigate under water to stop him. Hang it! I wish the weather would clear, if only for a moment, and allow us to get a sight of him. Thank you, Mr Trimble; that will do." And he released his hold upon the chart, allowing the corner he had been holding to spring back and curl up. I did the same, and, as the ship took a somewhat heavier roll than usual, glanced out over the bulwarks at the racing, foam-capped surges that reared themselves alongside; and at that moment, as if in direct response to the skipper's forcibly expressed wish, the haze thinned away somewhat to starboard, revealing, square abeam, and apparently about a mile away, a dim, misty, grey shape faintly showing up through the thickness to starboard. "Sail ho!" I cried excitedly, pointing her out; "there she is, sir." And even as the words passed my lips there came a shout from the lookout on the forecastle of "Sail ho! A large ship, broad on our starboard beam."