I observed the schooner to look more than usually small, the men silent and studious of the weather.

Nares, in one of his rusty humours, afforded me no shadow of a morning salutation.

He, too, seemed to observe the behaviour of the ship with an intent and anxious scrutiny.

What I liked still less, Johnson himself was at the wheel, which he span busily, often with a visible effort; and as the seas ranged up behind us, black and imminent, he kept casting behind him eyes of animal swiftness, and drawing in his neck between his shoulders, like a man dodging a blow.

From these signs, I gathered that all was not exactly for the best; and I would have given a good handful of dollars for a plain answer to the questions which I dared not put.