In the midst of this mirth, the officer of the watch, glancing round
the fast crimsoning horizon, paused abruptly, and shading his eyes
with his hand, looked out intently to the westward.

Frere, who found Mrs. Vickers's conversation a little tiresome,
and had been glancing from time to time at the companion,
as though in expectation of someone appearing, noticed the action.

"What is it, Mr. Best?"

"I don't know exactly. It looks to me like a cloud of smoke."
And, taking the glass, he swept the horizon.

"Let me see," said Frere; and he looked also.

On the extreme horizon, just to the left of the sinking sun, rested,
or seemed to rest, a tiny black cloud. The gold and crimson,
splashed all about the sky, had overflowed around it, and rendered
a clear view almost impossible.

"I can't quite make it out," says Frere, handing back the telescope.
"We can see as soon as the sun goes down a little."

Then Mrs. Vickers must, of course, look also, and was prettily affected
about the focus of the glass, applying herself to that instrument
with much girlish giggling, and finally declaring, after shutting one eye
with her fair hand, that positively she "could see nothing but sky,
and believed that wicked Mr. Frere was doing it on purpose."

By and by, Captain Blunt appeared, and, taking the glass from his officer,