“And is it, like so many of your motives, to continue locked for ever in your own breast? or may we, who are equal participators in its consequences, claim to share equally in the reason?”
“Since you know so much of the profession,” returned the young man, slightly laughing, but in tones that were rendered perhaps more alarming by the sounds produced in the unnatural effort, “you need not be told, that, in order to get a ship to windward, it is necessary to spread her canvas.”
“You can, at least, answer one of my questions more directly: Is this wind sufficiently favourable to pass the dangerous shoals of the Hatteras?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then, why not go to the place whence we came?”
“Will you consent to return?” demanded the youth, with the swiftness of thought.
“I would go to my father,” said Gertrude, with a rapidity so nearly resembling his own, that the ardent girl appeared to want breath to utter the little she said.
“And I am willing, Mr Wilder, to abandon the ship entirely,” calmly resumed the governess. “I require no explanation of all your mysterious warnings; restore us to our friends in Newport, and no further questions shall ever be asked.”
“It might be done!” muttered our adventurer; “it might be done!—A few busy hours would do it, with this wind.—Mr Earing!”—
The mate was instantly at his elbow. Wilder pointed to the dim object to leeward; and, handing him the glass, desired that he would take another view. Each looked, in his turn, long and closely.