In a few minutes the council had assembled, and Capt. O’Hara conducted them into the chart-room adjoining. The large-scale charts, which had been procured at Funchal and elsewhere, of the Cape Verds, had been put away; and the “North Atlantic” lay on the table spread out for use. “I haven’t the slightest doubt now that the fleet went from Funchal to the Western Islands,” said Capt. O’Hara, when the adults had assembled. “I think we may be sartain of that now,” added the Prince. “But the squadron sailed from Funchal on the 21st of last month; and to-day is the 8th of this month,--nearly three weeks ago. Where it is, is the conundrum we have to guess at the prisint moment.” “If the fleet went to the Western Islands on the 21st of last month, it hasn’t staid there all this time, I’ll warrant,” said Mr. Shakings. “The next isles of the sea the squadron will visit after the Azores will be the Bermudas, I know,” continued the captain, as he took up a pencil, and began to figure on a bit of paper. “Then all we have to do is to run for the Bermudas. How far off are they?” asked the Prince. “I have not worked up the distance on a great circle; but I should say the distance was about two thousand miles.” “Whew!” whistled the Prince. “That is a long distance.” “It is an eight-days’ run for the Ville d’Angers.” “But the fleet may be waiting for us at the Western Islands,” suggested Capt. Fairfield. “That’s true for you,” replied O’Hara. “It may have gone back to Funchal to look for us.” “And we are in a bad box,” laughed the Prince. “If we run for the Bermudas, the fleet may be looking for us at Funchal, the Canary, or the Western Islands. If we go back to these islands, they may go on to Bermudas, and be waiting for us there.” “Whichever course we take, very likely we shall be sorry we didn’t take the other,” added O’Hara. “It will require four days to go to Funchal, eight to Fayal, and seven more to Bermudas, making allowance for stops. What do you say, gentlemen?” “I vote for Bermudas direct,” said the Prince. “So do I,” added Shakings. “_Via_ Funchal,” Capt. Fairfield followed. “_Via_ Funchal is my judgment,” wound up the captain. “Funchal it is, then. You are the captain,” continued the Prince.