“Sleep, Lady, sleep,” he answered, as though he liked not, at such a moment, to be disturbed by even her soft and silvery voice.
“Is there new danger?” asked the maiden, stepping lightly from the mattress, as if she would not disturb the repose of her governess. “You need not fear to tell me the worst: I am a soldier’s child!”
He pointed to the signs so well comprehended by himself, but continued silent.
“I feel that the wind is colder than it was,” she said, “but I see no other change.”
“And do you know whither the boat is going?”
“To the land, I think. You assured us of that, and I do not believe you would willingly deceive.”
“You do me justice; and, as a proof of it, I will now tell you that you are mistaken. I know that to your eyes all points of the compass, on this void, must seem the same; but I cannot thus easily deceive myself.”
“And we are not sailing for our homes?”
“So far from it, that, should this course continue we must cross the whole Atlantic before your eyes could again see land.”
Gertrude made no reply, but retired, in sorrow, to the side of her governess. In the mean time, Wilder again left to himself, began to consult his compass and the direction of the wind. Perceiving that he might approach nearer to the continent of America by changing the position of the boat, he wore round, and brought its head as nigh up to the south-west as the wind would permit.