The _Forward_ was a vessel of a hundred and seventy tons, charged with a screw and steam-engine of a hundred and twenty horse-power. It might easily have been confounded with the other brigs in the port. But though it offered nothing curious to the eyes of the public, connoisseurs remarked certain peculiarities in it that a sailor cannot mistake. On board the _Nautilus_, anchored at a little distance, a group of sailors were hazarding a thousand conjectures about the destination of the _Forward_. "I don't know what to think about its masting," said one; "it isn't usual for steamboats to have so much sail." "That ship," said a quartermaster with a big red face--"that ship will have to depend more on her masts than her engine, and the topsails are the biggest because the others will be often useless. I haven't got the slightest doubt that the _Forward_ is destined for the Arctic or Antarctic seas, where the icebergs stop the wind more than is good for a brave and solid ship." "You must be right, Mr. Cornhill," said a third sailor. "Have you noticed her stern, how straight it falls into the sea?" "Yes," said the quartermaster, "and it is furnished with a steel cutter as sharp as a razor and capable of cutting a three-decker in two if the _Forward_ were thrown across her at top speed." "That's certain," said a Mersey pilot; "for that 'ere vessel runs her fourteen knots an hour with her screw. It was marvellous to see her cutting the tide when she made her trial trip. I believe you, she's a quick un." "The canvas isn't intricate either," answered Mr. Cornhill; "it goes straight before the wind, and can be managed by hand. That ship is going to try the Polar seas, or my name isn't what it is. There's something else--do you see the wide helm-port that the head of her helm goes through?" "It's there, sure enough," answered one; "but what does that prove?" "That proves, my boys," said Mr. Cornhill with disdainful satisfaction, "that you don't know how to put two and two together and make it four; it proves that they want to be able to take off the helm when they like, and you know it's a manoeuvre that's often necessary when you have ice to deal with." "That's certain," answered the crew of the _Nautilus_. "Besides," said one of them, "the way she's loaded confirms Mr. Cornhill's opinion. Clifton told me. The _Forward_ is victualled and carries coal enough for five or six years. Coals and victuals are all its cargo, with a stock of woollen garments and sealskins." "Then," said the quartermaster, "there is no more doubt on the matter; but you, who know Clifton, didn't he tell you anything about her destination?" "He couldn't tell me; he doesn't know; the crew was engaged without knowing. He'll only know where he's going when he gets there." "I shouldn't wonder if they were going to the devil," said an unbeliever: "it looks like it."