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Excerpt:-At six o'clock in the morning Captain Cochrane came on deck and joined his son, who had been keeping the look-out since four, and who now stood leaning over the bulwark-rail, whistling softly to himself, with his eyes fixed upon a large ship, going the schooner's way, between two and three miles ahead. She was under all sail, but the light breeze was on the bow, and she showed no studding-sails.
"That will be the ship we sighted last evening!" exclaimed Captain Cochrane. "She has no chance with this schooner in light winds and her yards fore and aft. Evidently bound to Kingston. A West Indiaman apparently. They rig those ships too loftily, and the steeve of their bowsprits is a danger to the whole fabric."
"I can't help thinking that I've seen that ship," said Arthur. "I have been working at her with the glass, but can't make out her name, though you can just catch sight of the white letters trembling in refraction as she lifts to the swell."