"Time and money wasted in a chase after shadows," thought Harold, but he did not utter the remark aloud, and turned the conversation.
"We shall have a breezy night," he observed, clapping his hand to his broad-brimmed hat to prevent its being carried away by the wind.
"More breezy than pleasant," remarked Bolton, "except that anything is better than the horrible heat. What fierce gusts are coming in from the west!"
"One has an impression, right or wrong, that the steamer has no ballast, or nothing heavier than bladder-balls," said Robin, who had just joined the two. "The vessel seems to dance along whither it will, as lively as Lammikin herself, and as little obedient to orders as she is to her guardian's."
"Of course, we shall all sleep on deck," said Harold.
"Certainly the men will," replied his brother. "Better to be buffeted by the wind than be baked alive below and then eaten up by cockroaches."
Almost all the male passengers kept the deck; but the Princess, her companions, Miss Petty, and her charge stayed below. Once poor Lammikin, making her escape from semi-suffocation, rushed up on deck, bareheaded and barefooted, to get a breath of air; but finding a good deal more air than she liked, and being afraid of being blown over into the sea, she dived down again into the cabin. There was not much sleep on board the "Napoli" that night.
The morning dawned, and daylight disclosed the startling fact that the vessel, instead of steaming down the Red Sea, had been driven by the west wind right across it. A wide, desolate-looking expanse of sandy shore was ahead, dotted here and there with a few stunted palms.
"Where are we?" asked Harold of the captain.
The poor Italian was as ignorant as his questioner. He only knew—every one knew—that the ship must be nearing the western coast of Arabia.