“Most probably that is it, unless some disaster has overtaken a ship. At any rate, it couldn’t have come from storm, for we haven’t had any weather to speak of for days.”
“By the way, sir, I heard a lot of talk before we left Kingston about earthquake weather. In my opinion, a quiet, still night like this means some sort of a shake. At least, that’s what the natives say.”
“Yes; and the glass has been singularly high. That’s a sign of something in the wind,” was the response. “But go aft, Metcalf, and see that they clear that boat properly.”
“Yes, sir,” and the chief officer hurried off.
He found Colonel Minturn, who had been pacing the deck sleeplessly in his anxiety, beside the boat crew, watching their preparations. Jack, whose watch had just expired, was there, too.
“Something up, eh?” asked the colonel.
“Yes; there’s a drifting boat with a woman in it dead ahead. We’re going to pick her up.”
“I wonder if I could go along,” said the colonel. “It would be something to relieve this anxiety. It is terrible. I cannot sleep. All I can do is to walk the decks and think.”
“I’ll ask the captain,” said Mr. Metcalf. “Personally, I have no objections.”
He was soon back with the required permission.