through the light haze of a glorious morning, he espied a long low
schooner, lateen-rigged, lying close under Point Leat, a small island
about nine miles distant on the weather bow; and nearly in the _Agra's_
course then approaching the Straits of Gaspar, 4 Latitude S.

"She is hove to," said Dodd, very gravely.


At eight o'clock, the stranger lay about two miles to windward; and still
hove to.

By this time all eyes were turned upon her, and half a dozen glasses.
Everybody, except the captain, delivered an opinion. She was a Greek
lying to for water: she was a Malay coming north with canes, and short of
hands: she was a pirate watching the Straits.

The captain leaned silent and sombre with his arms on the bulwarks, and
watched the suspected craft.

Mr. Fullalove joined the group, and levelled a powerful glass, of his own
construction. His inspection was long and minute, and, while the glass
was at his eye, Sharpe asked him half in a whisper, could he make out
anything?

"Wal," said he, "the varmint looks considerably snaky." Then, without
moving his glass, he let drop a word at a time, as if the facts were
trickling into his telescope at the lens, and out at the sight.
"One--two--four--seven, false ports."

There was a momentary murmur among the officers all round. But British