The old man--it was sixty years since he had made his first voyage--was watching intently a dark speck which had been visible for some time in the light of early dawn upon the north-western horizon. "Mago," he said at last, turning to his nephew and lieutenant, "does it seem to you to become bigger? your eyes are better than mine."
"Not that I can see," answered the young man.
"She hardly would gain upon us if she has no more wind than we have. Well, I shall go below, and have a bite and a sup."
He wetted his finger and held it up. "It strikes me," he went on, "that the wind, if you can call it a wind, has shifted half a point. Tell the helmsman to put her head a trifle to the north. Perhaps I may have a short nap. But if anything happens, call me at once."
Something did happen before ten minutes had passed. When Mago had given his instructions to the helmsman, and had superintended a slight shifting of the canvas, he looked again at the distant ship. It had become sensibly larger. The wind had freshened out at sea, and was rapidly bringing the stranger nearer. Mago hurried below to rouse his uncle. The old man was soon up on deck.
"I wish we were ten miles nearer home," he muttered, after taking a long look into the distance. "Get the oars out. If she is an enemy, and wants to cut us off, half a mile may make all the difference."
The order was promptly obeyed, and the rowers bent to their work with a will. But all the will in the world could not make the _Melcart_ move very fast through the water. She was stoutly built, as became a ship that had to carry a precious burden through all weather, and she was foul with the long sea-voyage. The goal of the race between her and the stranger, which could now be seen to be a Roman ship-of-war, was a headland behind which, as Hanno knew, was the harbour of Chelys. Let her reach that and she was safe. But it seemed as if this was not to be. The Roman ship had what wind there was right aft, and, notwithstanding all the efforts of the _Melcart's_ crew, moved more rapidly through the water. She would manifestly cut off the _Melcart_ before the headland was reached. But Hanno was not yet at the end of his resources.
"Call Mutines," he said to his lieutenant.