“How is that?”
“Weather. You saw that sudden squall we passed through this evening, or rather you heard it, no doubt, well that’s the sort of thing Kerguelen brews.”
“Suppose,” said the astute old lady, “it brewed one of those things, only much worse, and we were blown ashore?”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Our engines can fight anything.”
“Are there any natives in this place?”
“Only penguins and rabbits.”
“Tell me,” said Lagross, “that three-master we saw just now, would she be making for Kerguelen?”
“Oh, no, she must be out of her course and beating up north. She’s not a whaler, and ships like that would keep north of the Crozets. Probably she was driven down by that big storm we had a week ago. We wouldn’t be where we are only that I took those soundings south of Marion Island.”