“Now this is a regular blow-hard, and no mistake,” exclaimed the Captain, as the party stood in the doorway watching the bending trees and the clouds that rushed so wildly overhead. “Good thing we picked up our anchor when we did, or just as like as not we should have had to lie there all night.”
“Why, we couldn’t have stayed there in such a storm, could we, Captain Hardy?” said Fred, inquiringly.
“To be sure we could,” replied the Captain, “and snug enough too. Yes, indeed, the little Alice would have ridden out the gale handsomely. Then we might have stowed ourselves away in the cabin as nice as could be, and have been just as dry as we are here.”
“And gone without supper,” put in William, with a practical eye to the creature comforts.
“Easy there, my lad,” answered the Captain. “Do you think you catch an ancient mariner on the water without ‘a shot in his locker’?”
“Wouldn’t it have been jolly,—eating supper in the cabin,” exclaimed William; “and then, Captain Hardy, would you have gone on with the story?”
“To be sure I would,” answered the Captain.
“Then I’m sorry we didn’t stay there,” replied William.
“Good,” said the Captain. “But what says little Alice?”
“I’d rather hear the story where we are,” was the reply. And as the lightning flashed and the thunder rattled more and more, the little girl crept closer to the old man’s side.