Louis went into the pilot-house, where the captain was behind the wheel by this time. He was gazing intently at the conic rock which rose from the water a cable's length ahead of him, off a point on the main shore. When he brought the little steamer in to her anchorage in the morning, the lead had been kept going all the time, and he had noted the soundings on the log-slate at his side. It was now dead low tide, and the last sounding had given fifteen feet.
"I suppose you have noticed a change in the appearance of the Fatimé, Captain Scott," said Louis, as he took his place opposite him.
"What change? I haven't glanced at her. I don't like the looks of her, for she stirs up bad blood in me. I have been trying to be a saint like you, Louis, and it is the most difficult enterprise in which I ever engaged," replied Scott, as he directed his attention to her. "I don't see any change in her."
"Don't you see that gun sticking out through her bulwark?" asked Louis.
"I see it now, but I had not noticed it before," answered the captain. "Then Mazagan was not lying when he said that his vessel had been armed since he took command of her. I suppose I ought to be frightened at the appearance of that twelve-pounder, poking its muzzle out the side of the vessel; but somehow I am not a bit scared," said the captain, with a broader smile on his face than usual.
"But twelve-pound shot are not agreeable missiles to have plumped through the side of the Maud."
"Perhaps not; but the lively little craft is built of extra strength, and she can stand a few of them. I am more concerned about the speed of the Fatimé than I am about her guns. Of course she has another gun on her starboard side."
"If Mazagan had consulted me in regard to the placing of them, he could not have arranged them to suit me any better. But her speed is of more consequence than her guns."
"I judge from that, that you intend to run away from her," suggested Louis.
"Louis," said Captain Scott, looking at his companion with a very serious expression for him, "there is a recording angel hovering over and around me all the time."
"I suppose every fellow has one near him, to make a note of all his thoughts and actions, though we don't often take notice of his presence."