“Never forget a compass, my man,” Nelson said, “for though the sky may be blue when you start, a sudden storm may overtake you and blow you far from your ship. However, it can’t be helped now.”
In less than ten minutes the boat was enveloped in a dense fog. The position was decidedly awkward. Had there been any wind they could have steered by the sound of the surf breaking at the foot of the cliffs, but the sea was absolutely calm, and they could hear nothing. They rowed on for some time, and then Nelson said: “Lay in your oars, men, we may be pulling in the wrong direction for all we know. We’ll have to remain here till this fog lifts, even if it takes a week to clear. This is a northerly fog,” he said to Will. “Cold wind comes down from the Alps and condenses when it reaches the sea. These fogs are not very common, but they sometimes last for a considerable time.”
The afternoon passed, and presently night fell. There was no food of any kind in the boat. The men chewed their quids, [pg 252]but the two officers could not indulge in that relief. At night Nelson and Will wrapped themselves in their boat-cloaks and made themselves as comfortable as they could, getting uneasy snatches of sleep. Morning broke and there was no change; a white wall of fog rose all round the boat.
“This is awkward,” Nelson said. “I wish one of the batteries would fire a few guns; that might give us some indication as to our position, though I am by no means sure that in this thick atmosphere the sound would reach so far. I think we were about eleven miles away when the fog caught us.”
In the afternoon a breeze sprang up.
“God grant that it may continue!” Nelson said. “Slight as it is, two or three hours of it might raise a swell, and we might then hear the wash of the waves on the rocks.”
Hour after hour passed, but at last the coxswain said: “I think I hear a faint sound over on the right.”
“I have thought so some little time,” Will said, “but I would not speak until I was sure.”
“Out oars,” Nelson ordered, “and row in that direction.” The sound became more and more distinct as they proceeded, and soon they were satisfied that they were heading for the land. In a quarter of an hour the boat ran up on a sandy beach.
“I have not seen this spot before, it must therefore be farther away from the town than the point we had reached, and as we have been nearly twenty-four hours in the fog the current may have taken us a good many miles. However, we will land. I am parched with thirst, and you must be the same, lads. Leave two men in the boat; the rest of us will go in [pg 253]search of water and bring some down to those left behind when we find it. I think we had better scatter and look for some way up the cliff. If we can find a path we must follow it until we come to some house or other. Where there is a house there must be water. Mr. Gilmore and I will go to the right. If any of you find water, shout; we will do the same. But whether you find water or not, come down to the boat in three hours’ time. Thirsty or not thirsty we must row back to the town this evening. Now, Mr. Gilmore, we will walk along the beach until we come to a path, or at any rate some place where we can climb. I hope, as we get higher, the fog will become less dense.”