Occasionally the sound of a voice was blown back, and I could perceive the dull, red glow of a pipe or two.

The main body of the watch these would be, and even as I stared at the lumping shadow, a command was roared from the bridge, and two shapeless figures detached themselves from the mass, and ran forward.

The bridge itself was partially outlined against the lighter sky, giving me a vague glimpse of two figures, one standing motionless, as though gripping the rail, and peering straight ahead into the smother, the other striding back and forth.

The last appeared a huge shadow, his coat flapping in the wind, and I knew he must be the German first mate, Herman.
Satisfied on these points, and with a glance below at the unoccupied cabin, I stepped back and paced off the distance, until convinced that I had safely located where the porthole of number "5" should be.

I leaned over, seeking to trace its outline by some reflection of light from within, but the receding side of the vessel baffled me.