CHAPTER XXV.
"You've been on deck, Mr.Van Weyden," Wolf Larsen said, the following morning at the breakfast-table, "How do things look ?" "Clear enough," I answered, glancing at the sunshine which streamed down the open companion-way.

"Fair westerly breeze, with a promise of stiffening, if Louis predicts correctly." He nodded his head in a pleased way.

"Any signs of fog ?" "Thick banks in the north and north-west." He nodded his head again, evincing even greater satisfaction than before.
"What of the _Macedonia_ ?" "Not sighted," I answered.
I could have sworn his face fell at the intelligence, but why he should be disappointed I could not conceive.
I was soon to learn.

"Smoke ho!" came the hail from on deck, and his face brightened.
"Good!" he exclaimed, and left the table at once to go on deck and into the steerage, where the hunters were taking the first breakfast of their exile.
Maud Brewster and I scarcely touched the food before us, gazing, instead, in silent anxiety at each other, and listening to Wolf Larsen's voice, which easily penetrated the cabin through the intervening bulkhead.

He spoke at length, and his conclusion was greeted with a wild roar of cheers.