There were many days of such unprofitable watching from the outlooks of the _Noank_, after her first unexpected good fortune. She had somehow failed to overtake that sought-for Porto Rico merchantman. The gale had favored an escape, and so had the delay occasioned by the pursuit and capture of the _Spencer_. Since then, carrying all the sail the varying winds would let him, Captain Avery had sailed persistently on, hoping for that prize or for another as good. There had been topsails reported, from time to time, between him and the horizon, and from two, at least, of those, he had cautiously sheered away, not liking their very excellent "cut." There might be tiers of dangerous guns away down below them and he did not want any more guns,--heavy ones. "I said," he remarked, a little dolefully, "that I'd foller that sugar-boat all the way to Liverpool, and I've only 'bout half done it. I'm goin' ahead. There's no use in tryin' back toward Cuba, now. We'll take a look at the British coast, pretty soon; France, too, and Ireland, maybe Holland. We'll see what's to be had in the channels." Everybody on board was likely to be satisfied with that decision, especially the British prisoners from the _Spencer_. As for these, the sailor part of them were already on very good terms with their captors, not caring very much how or in what kind of craft they were to find their way back to England. They were a happy-go-lucky lot of foremastmen with strong prejudices, of course, against all Yankee rebels, but with thoroughly seamanlike ideas that they had no right to be sulky over the ordinary chances of war. They had not really lost much, and their main cause of complaint was their very narrow quarters on board the _Noank_. They had not the least idea that a change in this respect was only a little ahead of them, but a great improvement was coming. Day had followed day, and the ocean seemed to be in a manner deserted. A feeling of disappointment seemed to be growing in the mind of Captain Avery, and he had half forgotten how very good a prize the _Spencer_ had been. "This 'ere is dreadful!" he declared. "I'm afraid we're not goin' to make a dollar. What few sails we've sighted have all been Dutch or French. I want a look at the red-cross flag again." "Well, yes," thought Guert, "but I guess he doesn't want to see it on a man-o'-war. I feel a good deal as he does, though. I'll get Vine to lend me a glass. I've hardly had a chance to play lookout." Vine let him have the telescope, of course, but Up-na-tan and Coco came at once to see what he would do with it. He pulled it out to its length and began to peer across the surrounding ocean. "Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Boy fool! No stay on deck. Go up mast. Maintop. Then mebbe see something. No good eye!" "Git up aloft, Guert!" added Coco. "Never mine ole redskin. Think he go bline, pretty soon. Can't see lobster ship."