One evening, after a sail northwards as fine as the voyage down was dirty, they came up gently within forty miles of Boston, and then, because there was nothing else to do, went idling up and down all night, keeping watch.

The next morning there was a mist in the air, which might become fog.

Iberville had dreaded this; but he was to have his chance, for even when Berigord's face lowered most the look-out from the shrouds called down that he sighted two ships.

They were making for the coast.

All sail was put on, they got away to meet the newcomers, and they were not long in finding these to be their quarry.
Phips did not think that any ship would venture against them so near Boston, and could not believe the Maid of Provence an enemy.