But Robert was surprised at the laxity of discipline on the stranger.

They should be up and watching, inquiring into the nature of the schooner that was drawing so near.
"And now, Peter," said the captain, more exultant than ever, "you shall see an unveiling! It is not often given to a lad like you, a landsman, to behold such a dramatic act at sea, a scene so powerful and complete that it might have been devised by one of the great Elizabethans! Ho, Carlos, make ready!" He gave swift commands and the mate repeated them as swiftly to the men.
The two ships were rapidly drawing nearer, but to Robert's amazement the festival upon the deck of the stranger did not cease.

Above the creaking of the spars the wailing strains of the violin came to him across the waters.

If they were conscious there of the presence of the schooner they cared little about it.

For the moment it occurred to Robert that it must be the _Flying Dutchman_, or some other old phantom ship out of the dim and legendary past.
"And now, Carlos!" exclaimed the captain in a full, triumphant voice, "we'll wake 'em up! Break out the flag and show 'em what we are!" A coiled piece of cloth, dark and menacing, ran up the mainmast of the schooner, reached the top, and then burst out, streaming at full length in the strong wind, dark as death and heavy with threat.