groups, as if fearing to break a silence so replete
with awe and anticipation. It was next noticed that the vessel was
subjected to some vague motion; the resistance of the water had ceased,
the waves no longer hissed under her bows, or nestled and lapped under
her counter; a dreamy, irregular, and listless rocking had taken the
place of the regular undulations; at times, a faint and half delicious
vertigo seemed to overcome their senses; the ship was drifting.

Captain Bunker stood near the bitts, where his brief orders were
transmitted to the man at the almost useless wheel. At his side Senor
Perkins beamed with unshaken serenity, and hopefully replied to the
captain's half surly, half anxious queries.

"By the chart we should be well east of Los Lobos island, d'ye see?"
he said impatiently. "You don't happen to remember the direction of the
current off shore when you were running up here?"

"It's five years ago," said the Senor modestly; "but I remember we kept
well to the west to weather Cape St. Eugenio. My impression is that
there was a strong northwesterly current setting north of Ballenos Bay."

"And we're in it now," said Captain Bunker shortly. "How near St. Roque
does it set?"

"Within a mile or two. I should keep away more to the west," said Senor
Perkins, "and clear"--

"I ain't asking you to run the ship," interrupted Captain Bunker
sharply. "How's her head now, Mr. Brooks?"

The seamen standing near cast a rapid glance at Senor Perkins, but not
a muscle of his bland face moved or betrayed a consciousness of the
insult. Whatever might have been the feeling towards him, at that
moment the sailors--after their fashion--admired their captain; strong,
masterful, and imperious. The danger that had cleared his eye, throat,
and brain, and left him once more the daring and skillful navigator they
knew, wiped out of their shallow minds the vicious habit that had sunk
him below their level.

It had now become perceptible to even the inexperienced eyes of the
passengers that the Excelsior was obeying some new and profound impulse.
The vague drifting had ceased, and in its place had come a mysterious
but regular movement, in which the surrounding mist seemed to
participate, until fog and vessel moved together towards some unseen but
well-defined bourne. In vain had the boats of the Excelsior, manned
by her crew, endeavored with a towing-line to check or direct the
inexplicable movement; in vain had Captain B