"As much as we shall, sir."
"Let us try. Terrible sea, I suppose?"
"Awful to look at, sir. Mr. Mackworth and Mr. Cuthbert are down to look at it."
"No craft ashore?"
"None as yet. None of our boats is out. Yesterday morning a Pill boat, 52, stood in to see where she was, and beat out again, but that was before it came on so bad."
So they started. They pushed rapidly out of the town, and up a narrow wooded valley which led to the moor which lay between them and Ravenshoe. For some time they were well enough sheltered, and made capital way, till the wood began to grow sparer, and the road to rise abruptly. Here the blast began to be more sensibly felt, and in a quarter of mile they had to leap three uprooted trees; before them they heard a rushing noise like the sea. It was the wind upon the moor.
Creeping along under the high stone walls, and bending down, they pushed on still, until, coming to the open moor, and receiving for the first time the terrible tornado full in their faces, the horses reared up and refused to proceed; but, being got side by side, and their heads being homeward, they managed to get on, though the rain upon their faces was agonising.
As they were proceeding thus, with Michael on the windward side, Charles looked up, and there was another horseman beside him. He knew him directly; it was Lloyd's agent.
"Anything wrong, Mr. Lewis? Any ship ashore?" he shouted.
"Not yet, sir," said the agent. "But there'll be many a good sailor gone to the bottom before to-morrow morning, I am thinking. This is the heaviest gale for forty years."