On going upon deck after dinner, they noticed a change in the appearance of sea and sky. Clouds were visible on the horizon, and the wind had shifted. It was blowing from another quarter. It had been north-east. It was now south-east. It was also a little stronger than it had been, and created more than a ripple on the water. The surface of the sea was now agitated, and the halcyon times of calm had passed. The boys noted all these things at one glance.
“It’s going to be rough,” said Bart. “The wind has changed, and it’s going to blow.”
“Well,” said Bruce, “let it blow. It’ll be fair for the Antelope, and fetch her up all the faster.”
“It’s an ill wind that blows no good,” said Tom, quietly.
“Let her rip,” said Phil.
The boys were not by any means inclined to borrow trouble, and so they soon drove away these thoughts, and began to get up amusements of the old sort. They ransacked the cabin, they peered into places heretofore neglected. Nothing, however, of any particular interest rewarded their searches. So the afternoon passed away.
The tea table was set. Solomon did his best. All praised the repast, as something of a superior order. This time Solomon did not kindle, and glow, and chuckle at the praises of his young friends, but preserved a demeanor of unchangeable gravity.
As they sat at table, they all noticed a slight motion in the vessel, which would not have been regarded under ordinary circumstances, but which now, in their very peculiar situation, excited comment.
“The wind is increasing,” said Arthur.
“I dare say we’ll have a blow to-night,” said Bart.