ecame a mate; at first comparing their calculations
every day, and then but once a week; arguing over the allowances
each had made for tide and leeway; and sometimes finding to his
surprise, on arriving in port, that Pengarvan's calculations were
even nearer to the truth than his own.

This was a great satisfaction to him, for he felt that, if aught
should happen to himself when on a voyage, Pengarvan could be
trusted to bring the Swan home, as safely and surely as he could
himself. Roger had, for the last two years, been going through the
same schooling; but as yet he was very far from attaining accuracy,
being unwilling to make sufficient allowance for the great leeway
that a vessel, in those days, made with the wind abeam.

"Now, Pengarvan," Reuben said in great glee, "bring out your log
book. We have not compared notes since we started, for till we
expected to reach land there was no occasion to do so, as our
general course was clear enough. Now let us see where you put her.

"And you, too, Roger; let us see what hand you have made of it.

"I went through my calculations yesterday, and I am sure that there
is no mistake in the figures. If I am right, this is the island
that we see ahead, the one called Samona; while that we see dimly
away on the port hand is Mariguana. I don't see, by this map, any
land marked that could be that which we see on the starboard hand.

"Now, what do you make of it?"

"I put it more than a degree to the southeast, Captain; and believe
that the three islands we see are those marked as the Caicos: the
Great Caicos in the center, North and East on either hand."

"And you, Roger, what do you make of it?"

"According to my calculation, father, we ought to be full two
hundred miles from land, and heading straight for Abaco, the
northernmost of these islands."

The captain laughed, and even Pengarvan smiled.

"I fear, Roger, it would be hardly safe to leave the ship in your
hands, at present. You are some six hundred miles away from
Pengarvan's islands, and but seventy less from mine.

"Well, Pengarvan, whether you or I be right, we may congratulate
ourselves; for we have made a near cast, indeed, seeing that it is
eight weeks since we left England, and more than six since we
sailed out of sight of Madeira; and that we traversed a sea
altogether strange to us, and of whose currents we know nothing. We
are both right, to a day, in our reckoning of distance; and neither
of us need f