“No, I hardly think there’s any need yet,” I distinguished Mr Marline’s voice say in reply. “It’s only a flash of lightning—nothing to make a fuss about, for there isn’t a breath of wind stirring yet.”
“It’s coming though,” the other rejoined. “I can smell it.”
“You’ve a better nose than I have then,” said Mr Marline with a laugh; but, he had hardly got out the words, when there came a terrific crash of thunder right overhead, sounding so fearfully near and grand and awful, that it seemed as if the roof of heaven had broken in!
I jumped up at once from my seat and went towards the binnacle, where Jackson and Mr Marline were standing; for, although I wasn’t actually afraid of the thunder, still one likes to be by the side of some one else when it peals out so dreadfully, the sense of companionship lessening the fear of danger, I suppose.
“Hullo, Master Tom, not turned in yet?” cried Mr Marline, seeing me by the light from the compass and appearing to be very much surprised at my not having gone below to bed.
“No, sir,” I said. “I stopped up to wait for the wind.”
“Ah, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait longer,” he replied. “This’ll be nothing but a tropical thunder-storm, and probably we won’t have the ghost of a breeze after it has gone over.”
“I think differently, sir, begging your pardon,” said Jackson, interposing at this point; “and, if you don’t mind, Mr Marline, I’d like to have the lighter sails taken off her, in case it comes on to blow.”
“All right, please yourself, my dear sir; you’re in charge of the deck,” answered the first mate drily. “Though, mind you, I think you’re giving yourself trouble for nothing. I wouldn’t, however, call the captain till we really know whether we’re going to have a squall or not.”
“Very well, sir,” said Jackson, “I won’t call him; but I’ll have the upper canvas in, for it’s just as well to be on the safe side, especially as I do think we’re in for something.”