"What do you think, Mr. Prendergast? Have we got enough off her?"
"I don't know about your storms here, Captain; but if it were in the Levant I should get every stitch of canvas off her excepting closely-reefed topsails, a storm jib, and fore stay-sail. The first burst over, one can always shake out more canvas. However, you know these seas, and I do not."
"I think you are right. These pamperos, as we call them, are not to be trifled with."
"In that case there is no time to be lost, Captain, and with your permission I will lend a hand."
"All hands take in sail!" the captain shouted.
The mate led the way up the starboard shrouds, while Harry, throwing off his coat, mounted those to port, closely followed by Bertie. Five minutes' hard work, and the Para was stripped for the struggle.
"That is a good job done," the skipper said to Harry as he reached the deck.
"A very good job, sir. The wind may come, but we are prepared for it; there is nothing like being ready in time."
"She is in good trim for it," said the captain, "not above two-thirds laden, and as the wind is off the land, there is nothing to worry us except the Falklands. I shall go outside them. Of course that will lengthen the voyage, but with this westerly wind I should not care about being between them and the mainland. You think the same, Mr. Prendergast?"
"I do, sir; they are a scattered group, and it would not be pleasant to have them under lee."