'
"Well, I can! I know the old Sea-gull like a book; and look! look, Sara,
if that isn't Jap this minute coming down the street!"
Sara looked, recognizing the straight young figure at once, and turned
back to her brother with a quick pang of foreboding that slightly paled
her sweet face.
"Morton," she said huskily, "he brings us news of father!"
CHAPTER VIII.
NEWS FROM THE NAUTILUS.
When the fleet to which the Nautilus belonged reached the Banks,
everything seemed exceptionally propitious. The weather was fine and
tranquil for March, and the fish fairly asking to be taken. In fact, it
was all "too lucky," as old Captain Sennett of the Nautilus growled
occasionally, he being, like all sailors, superstitious to the core, and
"fond of his blow," as the crew put it.
They made a "big haul," with which they put into port, and after
disposing of it started out again, only to make a trip as disastrous as
the former had been fortunate. There was a week of the "dirtiest" kind
of weather,--head-winds, fogs, and treacherous "breezes," which strained
every timber in the old tub of a Nautilus, as she rolled clumsily about
in the turbulent waves.
At length there came a night (it was one of those in which Sara had
watched with baby during the measles) when the sea, as if scorning all
previous performances, seemed lashing itself into a very climax of rage.
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