It is useless to expect the wind to spring up again during the night, and she will lay becalmed till morning.

The _Ebba_, however, propelled by her mysterious motor, continues to approach her.
It goes without saying, that Captain Spade has also begun to take in sail, and the work, under the direction of the boatswain Effrondat, is executed with the same precision and promptness that struck me before.
When the twilight deepens into darkness, only a mile and a half separates the vessels.
Captain Spade then comes up to me--I am standing on the starboard side--and unceremoniously orders me to go below.
I can but obey.

I remark, however, ere I go, that the boatswain has not lighted the head-lamps, whereas the lamps of the three-master shine brightly--green to starboard, and red to port.
I entertain no doubt that the schooner intends to pass her without being seen; for though she has slackened speed somewhat, her direction has not been in any way modified.
I enter my cabin under the impression of a vague foreboding.

My supper is on the table, but uneasy, I know not why, I hardly touch it, and lie down to wait for sleep that does not come.
I remain in this condition for two hours.

The silence is unbroken save by the water that ripples along the vessel's sides.
My mind is full of the events of the past two days, and other thoughts crowd thickly upon me.