as a
farewell signal, and we could see an answering fire on shore. Our
course lay directly southward, and when our light was extinguished we
were barely visible through the distance and gloom.

"But true to our course, though our shadow grow dark,
We'll trim our broad sail as before;
And stand by the rudder that governs the bark,
Nor ask how we look from the shore."

CHAPTER IX.

On the Ohotsk Sea we had calms with light winds, and made very slow
progress. One day while the men were exercising at the guns, the look
out reported a sail. We were just crossing the course from Ayan to
Ghijiga, and were in the Danzig's track. The strange vessel shortened
sail and stood to meet us, and before long we were satisfied it was
our old acquaintance. At sunset we were several miles apart and
nearing very slowly. The night was one of the finest I ever witnessed
at sea; the moon full and not a cloud visible, and the wind carrying
us four or five miles an hour. The brig was lying to, and we passed
close under her stern, shortening our sail as we approached her.
Everybody was on deck and curious to learn the news.

"SDRASTVETEH," shouted Captain Lund when we were in hearing distance.

"SDRASTVETEH," responded the clear voice of Phillipeus; and then
followed the history of the Danzig's voyage.

"We had a good voyage to Ayan, and staid there four days. We are five
days out, and passed through a heavy gale on the second day. Going to
Ghijiga."

Then we replied with the story of our cruise and asked for news from
Europe.

"War in progress. France and Austria against Prussia, Italy, and
Russia. No particulars."

By this time the ships were separated and our conversation ended. It
was conducted in Russian, but I knew enough of the language to
comprehend what was said. There was a universal "eh!" of astonishment
as the important sentence was completed.

Here were momentous tidings; France and Russia taking part in a war
that was not begun when I left America. A French fleet was in Japanese
waters and might be watching for us. It had two ships, either of them
stronger than the Variag.

As the Danzig disappeared we went below. "I hoped to go home at the
end of this voyage," said the captain as we seated around his table;
"but we must now remain in the Pacific. War has come and may give us
glory or the grave; possibly both."

For an hour we discussed the intelligence and the probabilities of its
truth. As we separat