Did they realize that I was trying to discover by what means the
schooner was propelled? Very likely, and Captain Spade, who had looked
on, must have known it, too. Even a hospital attendant could not fail
to be astonished at the fact that a vessel without either screw or
sails was going along at such a speed. However this may be, for some
reason or other, the bows of the _Ebba_ are barred to me.
Toward ten o'clock a breeze springs up--a northwest wind and very
favorable--and Captain Spade gives an order to the boatswain. The
latter immediately pipes all hands on deck, and the mainsail, the
foresail, staysail and jibs are hoisted. The work could not have been
executed with greater regularity and discipline on board a man-of-war.
The _Ebba_ now has a slight list to port, and her speed is notably
increased. But the motor continues to push her along, as is evident
from the fact that the sails are not always as full as they ought
to be if the schooner were bowling along solely under their action.
However, they continue to render yeoman's service, for the breeze has
set in steadily.
The sky is clear, for the clouds in the west disappear as soon as they
attain the horizon, and the sunlight dances on the water.
My preoccupation now is to find out as near as possible where we
are bound for. I am a good-enough sailor to be able to estimate
the approximate speed of a ship. In my opinion the _Ebba_ has been
travelling at the rate of from ten to eleven knots an hour.
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