There is not a sail, not a speck on the horizon either east, west, north or south.
After cogitating upon the circumstance I can only arrive at the following conclusion, which, however, can only be accepted under reserve: Although I did not notice it, the _Ebba_ resumed her voyage while I slept, leaving the three-master becalmed behind her, and this is why the merchantman is no longer visible.
I am careful not to question Captain Spade about it, nor even Engineer Serko, as I should certainly receive no answer.
Besides, at this moment Captain Spade goes to the signalling apparatus and presses one of the buttons on the upper disk.

Almost immediately the _Ebba_ gives a jerk, then with her sails still furled, she starts off eastward again.
Two hours later the Count d'Artigas comes up through the main hatchway and takes his customary place aft.

Serko and Captain Spade at once approach and engage in conversation with him.
All three raise their telescopes and sweep the horizon from southeast to northeast.
No one will be surprised to learn that I gaze intently in the same direction; but having no telescope I cannot distinguish anything.
The midday meal over we all return on deck--all with the exception of Thomas Roch, who has not quitted his cabin.
Towards one o'clock land is sighted by the lookout man on the foretop cross-tree.

Inasmuch as the _Elba_ is bowling along at great speed I shall soon be able to make out the coast line.
In effect, two hours later a vague semicircular line that curves outward is discernible about eight miles off.

As the schooner approaches it becomes more distinct.