“It blows fresh, my Lord, and if it were not for the trespass on your comfort, I should almost rejoice at the occasion of showing you my yacht's qualities as a sailing-boat.”
“I should prefer taking your word for them, sir,” said Lord Kilgoff, tartly; “a pleasure-trip is one thing, a night in a small vessel exposed to a heavy gale is another.”
“You 're right, my Lord,” said the pilot, who heard but a part of the observation; “it will be a gale before morning.”
“Luff! luff, there!” shouted Sickleton; and at the same instant a heavy sea thundered against the bow and broke over the fore part of the vessel with a crashing sound.
“I think when we see the lighthouse of Kingstown so near us,” said Lord Kilgoff, “there ought to be no great difficulty in returning.”
“That's not the harbor-light you see yonder—that's the Kish, my Lord,” said the pilot “Keep her up, my man, keep her up, the wind is freshening.”
“Will you indeed forgive me for this disastrous turn of our cruise?” said Cashel, as he fastened his boat-cloak around Lady Kilgoff's throat, after several vain efforts to induce her to go below.
“If you only prevent my Lord from scolding, I shall enjoy it immensely,” said she, in a half whisper.
“I trust, Lady Kilgoff,” said his Lordship, approaching, and steadying himself by the bulwarks, “that this night'a experience will induce you to distrust your own judgment when in opposition to mine. I foresaw the whole of it. It is now blowing a fierce gale—”
“Not a bit of it, my Lord,” interposed the pilot, bluntly; “but it will blow great guns 'fore daybreak, or I 'm mistaken.”