upon deck.

We were, I found, not only becalmed, but hemmed in by a dense fog-bank
which rolled in thick, choking wreaths all round us, and hid the very
water beneath us. We might have been a ship of the air riding upon
a white cloud-bank. Now and anon a little puff of breeze caught the
foresail and bellied it out for a moment, only to let it flap back
against the mast, limp and slack, once more. A sunbeam would at times
break through the dense cloud, and would spangle the dead grey wall with
a streak of rainbow colour, but the haze would gather in again and shut
off the bright invader. Covenant was staring right and left with great
questioning eyes. The crew were gathered along the bulwarks and smoking
their pipes while they peered out into the dense fog.

'God den, Captain,' said Dicon, touching his fur cap. 'We have had a
rare run while the breeze lasted, and the mate reckoned before he turned
in that we were not many miles from Bristol town.'

'In that case, my good fellow,' I answered, 'ye can set me ashore, for I
have not far to go.'

'We must e'en wait till the fog lifts,' said Long John. 'There's only
one place along here, d'ye see, where we can land cargoes unquestioned.
When it clears we shall turn her head for it, but until we can take our
bearings it is anxious work wi' the sands under our lee.'

'Keep a look-out there, Tom Baldock!' cried Dicon to a man in the bows.
'We are in the track of every Bristol ship, and though there's so little
wind, a high-sparred craft might catch a breeze which we miss.'

'Sh!' said Long John suddenly, holding up his hand in warning. 'Sh!'

We listened with all our ears, but there was no sound, save the gentle
wash of the unseen waves against our sides.

'Call the mate!' whispered the seaman. 'There's a craft close by us. I
heard the rattle of a rope upon her deck.'

Silas Bolitho was up in an instant, and we all stood straining our ears,
and peering through the dense fog-bank. We had well-nigh made up our
minds that it was a false alarm, and the mate was turning back in no
very good humour, when a clear loud bell sounded seven times quite
close to us, followed by a shrill whistle and a confused shouting and
stamping.

'It's a King's ship,' growled the mate. 'That's seven bells, and the
bo'sun is turning out the watch below.'

'It was on our quarter,' whispered one.

'Nay, I think it was on our larboard bow,' said another.

The mate held up his hand, and we all l