n?" he asked, at length.

Claude told him.

Zac said nothing for some time.

"I wonder whether they've seen us," said he, at length. "No--'tain't
possible. The fog's too thick--and we're as invisible to them as they
are to us. Besides, these words show that they ain't thinkin' about
anybody but themselves. Well, all we've got to do is to keep as still
as a mouse, an' I'll jest go an' warn the boys."

With these words Zac moved softly away to warn his crew. First he
went to Terry, and informed him that the whole fleet of France was
around the Parson, and that their only chance of safety was to keep
silent--a piece of information which effectually stopped Terry's
singing and whistling for some time; then he told Biler, in a
friendly way, that if he spoke above a whisper, or made any noise,
he'd pitch him overboard with an anchor tied to his neck. Then he
warned Jericho. As for Pere Michel, he felt that warning was
unnecessary, for the priest was too absorbed in his book to be
conscious of the external world. After this, he came back to Claude,
who had been listening ever since he left, but without hearing
anything more.

"We must have drifted nearer together," said Zac. "The voice was a
good deal louder than when I fust heerd it. My only hope is, that
they'll drift past us, an' we'll git further away from them. But I
wonder what they meant by bringin' her head around. P'aps they've
seen us, after all--an' then, again, p'aps they haven't."

He said this in a whisper, and Clause answered in another whisper.

"It seems to me," said Claude, "that if they'd seen us, they'd have
said something more--or at any rate, they'd have made more noise. But
as it is, they've been perfectly silent."

"Wal--I on'y hope we won't hear anythin' more of them."

For more than two hours silence was observed on board the Parson.
Terry stopped all whistling, and occupied himself with scratching his
bullet head. The priest sat motionless, reading his book. Jericho
drew the unhappy Biler down below for safe keeping, and detained him
there a melancholy prisoner. Claude and Zac stood listening, but
nothing more was heard.

To Claude there seemed something weird and ghostly in this
incident--a voice thus sounding suddenly forth out of nothingness,
and then dying away into the silence from which it had emerged: there
was that in it which made him feel a sensation of involuntary awe;
and the longer the silence continued, the more did this in