"Oldbury Head seven miles nor'-nor'-east," shouted Mr. Grant in reply. The captain waved his hand in acknowledgement. The great ship glided past, giving the Sea Scouts time to read the words, "_Achilles_, Nantes," on her stern before she was swallowed up in the fog. "Frenchman!" exclaimed Craddock. "And isn't she shifting, although there's hardly enough wind to make us answer our helm." "At any rate, we've done her a Good Turn," remarked Mr. Grant. "She's going about already. Cautious chap, that skipper. Now, Hopcroft, try a cast and let's see where we are." The lead-line showed a depth of seventeen fathoms, while when the lead was brought on deck the "arming" was thick with fine grey sand. "Good enough," said the Scoutmaster. "We're still eight miles from land. I gave that fellow a generous amount of scope, which is on the safe side. Now, lads, grub. Watch and watch. Starboard watch will remain on deck while the port watch goes below." With an appreciative "Ay, ay, sir!" Craddock was about to dive into the cabin when Symington, who had relieved Phillips in the bows, suddenly yelled: "Vessel dead ahead, sir!" CHAPTER VIII THE DESERTED STEAMER THE fog had lifted sufficiently to enable the crew of the _Puffin_ to command a radius of vision of about a hundred yards--and within that distance was a steamship, bows on. By the rule of the road at sea it was her place to give way to the little sailing craft, but she made no effort to do so, neither did she indicate by a blast on her syren which course she was about to take. "Down helm!" shouted Mr. Grant, knowing that a fore-and-aft rigged vessel will answer more readily with lee than with weather helm. Round swept the _Puffin_ with an ample margin of safety, for during the manoeuvre the Scoutmaster noticed that the tramp was not making way. She was lying almost broadside on to the wind, with her bows high out of the water. It struck the Sea Scouts as being a strange state of affairs. The steam-vessel's anchors were hove close up to the hawsepipes, showing that she had not brought up, a thin wisp of fleecy white vapour was issuing from her steampipe; yet her bridge appeared to be deserted. Then, as the yacht passed to wind'ard the Sea Scouts were quick to notice another peculiarity. The tramp's quarter boats had been lowered hurriedly, as the swaying falls with their lower blocks violently crashing against her sides with every roll of the vessel indicated. No self-respecting skipper would send away a boat without ordering those of the crew who remained on board to secure the davit gear. "She's been abandoned," declared Phillips. "And she's sinking," added Talbot. All eyes on board the _Puffin_ were watching the mysterious tramp as the yacht moved slowly past the former's port side. The vessel's bows were well up and the stern correspondingly depressed. Already the water, fortunately calm, was level with the scuttles in her quarter; yet she showed no tendency to list.