"It may be that we shall have to run away, and I must not be caught off my guard." But the look in the man's eyes did not seem to Robert to be that of one who wished to run away.

It was far more the look of the hunter, and when the hulking mate, Carlos, passed near him his face bore a kindred expression.

The sailors, too, were eager, attentive, watching the horizon, as if they expected something to appear there.
No attention was paid to Robert, and he remained on the deck, feeling a strong premonition that they were at the edge of a striking event, one that had a great bearing upon his own fate, no matter what its character might be.
The wind rose again, but it did not become a gale.

It was merely what a swift vessel would wish, to show her utmost grace and best speed.

The moon came out and made a silver sea.