human
By all that's good! exclaimed Tom,
gpt
That I can tell you not, my friend; but I am happy that she is anchored there for the hours of beauty she has already given to me. On this strange coast of yours one so rarely sees a sail.
human
No, they go too far to the south... But what is she? asked Dan.
gpt
We must find out.
human
What do you make her out?
gpt
There are men on deck, some swabbing out the roundhouse. One of them is lolling at the wheel. She flies the British flag.
human
Do you, perhaps, make out the name?
gpt
I don't know--yes, Dan replied, twisting the lens to suit his eyes better and spelling out the letters,
human
S,O,U,T,H,E,R,N,C,R--the _Southern Cross_. By Jingo, Tom, we'll have to go down to the beach and have a look at her.
gpt
She is a good fine boat, eh?
human
She certainly is,