“Chee!� exclaimed the Bowery youth, when they were both safe inside, “dis is de wurstest night I ever seen. I don’t see a ghost of a show of our escaping to-night. Why, de Mauretania ’ud have a hard time in dese waves, let alone a small boat.�
“Still I hate to give it up,� rejoined Raynor, “maybe the weather will moderate after awhile,� he added hopefully.
“Don’t look much like it. I’m gloomed fer fair,� grumbled Noddy disconsolately.
They peeped out of the galley through a square port cut in the stern wall.
The decks were deserted but for the figure of the man at the wheel. He stood there in dripping yellow oilskins, gripping the helm and turning it this way or that as the great seas threatened the schooner. The binnacle light gleamed on his waterproof garments, making him look like a figure of bronze.
“I wish this storm would let up,� observed Raynor at length.
“Maybe it’ll get worser,� said the pessimistic Noddy.
“I hope not. It’s quite bad enough now. Anyhow, it’s severe enough to make us call off all our plans.�
“Yes, bad luck to it,� was the reply.
There came, if possible, a louder shriek of the wind, and the schooner received a buffeting blow from a wave that made her stagger.