You could see the pigmy figures of the men clambering up the rigging, and presently down fell the topsail yards and up went more figures, and the spars were dotted with heads. Anything more picturesque than this vessel--her black hull rolling majestically, her white sails vanishing even as you watched them, her rigging marked against the cloudy sky, the sense of the noisy activity on board of her, of which no faintest echo stole across the water, and all between, the tumbling cloud-coloured waters--cannot be imagined. The crew of the “Meteor” watched her with curiosity; but she now fell rapidly astern, and in a short time could be seen clearly only by the telescope, which Captain Steel held to his eye, speculating upon her movements. The dinner-bell rang. It was now the first dog-watch. Thompson, the second mate, came on deck, and the passengers went to dinner. The sunlight had a watery gleam in it as the lengthening rays fell upon the skylight, and Holdsworth’s eyes constantly wandered to the sails, which were visible through the glass. The skipper was in high humour, and during dinner laughed at the barque they had passed for shortening sail under a blue sky. “I’ll wager a hat,” he exclaimed, “that she’s commanded by a Scotchman, even if she don’t hail from a North British port. I don’t mean to say that your Scotchman’s a timid man, but he’s unco’ thoughtful. My first skipper was a Sawney, and every night, as regularly as the second dog-watch came round, it was ‘In royals and flying-jib, and a single reef in the mizzen-top-sail.’” “But there must be some reason for the barque furling her sails,” said the General. “From his point of view, no doubt, sir. You have seen what the weather has been all the afternoon?” “The wind is dropping, sir,” said Holdsworth, looking through the skylight. He had an uneasy expression in his eyes, and he frequently glanced at the skipper; but etiquette of a very severe kind prohibited him from imparting his misgivings of a change, in the face of the skipper’s manifest sense of security. “It may freshen after sunset,” rejoined the skipper. “Mr. Holland, the pleasure of a glass of wine.” The conversation drifted into other channels. Mrs. Ashton gave an account of a country ball she had attended a week or two before she left England, and described the dress she wore on that occasion, appealing often to her husband to aid her memory, and riveting the attention of Mr. St. Aubyn. Then the General talked of the garrison-towns he had visited, and paid some handsome compliments to the British army, and to English society in general. Mrs. Tennent, seated on the captain’s right hand, with her boy at her side, listened to without joining in the conversation. Holdsworth’s eyes roamed incessantly through the skylight.