In Search of an Unknown Race — page 229: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

VAN. 915 CHAPTER XXXIII. VAN’S RECKLESS ENTERPRISE. Tue hours wore on, and the same dead expanse of calm continued. The light sails were snugly stowed, and the courses furled, in readiness for the expected blow, yet nothing seemed to come of it. About eleven o’clock Captain Peterson, after vainly trying to trace the schooner’s whereabouts in the dark- ness, for she showed no light, went below, instructing the second mate to give him a call in case the slightest change in the weather took place. Van had never seen his guardian so depressed, nor did he wonder at it. His own property—all he was worth in the world, in fact—was nota pistol shot distant in the hands of an unscrupulous gang of scoundrels, yet Captain Peterson was powerless to help himself. The moment a breeze sprang up the schooner would creep away through the gloom, and that would be the last of her. True, if the calm continued all night the Rattler would have to remain as she was, yet that did not help mat- ters. Even in case of a wind it would be impossible to range the great ship alongside the schooner without danger to both vessels, in the form of carrying away spars or rigging. Gomicbook