"Just as I thought, Mr Grenvile," he said, handing back the instrument. "If you'll take another squint, sir, you'll see that they're getting up tackles on their yard-arms.  That means--unless I'm greatly mistaken-- that they're about to hoist out their longboat; and that again means that they'll stick a gun into the eyes of her, and attack us with the boats in regular man-o'-war fashion.  But they ain't alongside of us yet, and won't be for another hour and a half if the wind don't die away altogether--and, somehow, I don't fancy it's going to do that.  No, what I'm most afraid of is"--and he took a long careful look round--"that in this flukey weather the brig may get a breeze first, and bring it down with her, when--ay, and there it is, sure enough!  There's blue water all round her, and I can see her canvas filling to it, even with my naked eye.  And there she swings her yards to it.  It'll be `keep all fast with the boats' now!  If that little air o' wind only sticks to her for half an hour she'll have us under her guns, safe enough!"