Mrs. Weldon had, in truth, no reason to question the correctness of Dick's representations; she owned that provided the wind remained in the same favourable quarter, there was every prospect of their reaching land in safety; nevertheless at times she could not resist the misgiving that would arise when she contemplated what might be the result of a change of wind or a breaking of the weather.
With the light-heartedness that belonged to his age, Jack soon fell back into his accustomed pursuits, and was to be seen merrily running over the deck or romping with Dingo. At times, it is true, he missed the companionship of Dick; but his mother made him comprehend that now that Dick, was captain, his time was too much occupied to allow him; any leisure for play, and the child quite understood that he must not interrupt his old friend in his new duties.
[Illustration: A light shadow glided stealthily along the deck.]
The negroes performed their work with intelligence, and seemed to make rapid progress in the art of seamanship. Tom had been unanimously appointed boatswain, and took one watch with Bat and Austin, the alternate watch being discharged by Dick himself with Hercules and Actæon. One of them steered so that the other two were free to watch at the bows. As a general rule Dick Sands managed to remain at the wheel all night; five or six hours' sleep in the daytime sufficed for him, and during the time when he was lying down he entrusted the wheel to Tom or Bat, who under his instructions had become very fair helmsmen. Although in these unfrequented waters there was little chance of running foul of any other vessel, Dick invariably took the precaution of lighting his signals, carrying a green light to starboard and a red light to port. His exertions, however, were a great strain upon him, and sometimes during the night his fatigue would induce a heavy drowsiness, and he steered, as it were, by instinct more than by attention.
On the night of the 13th, he was so utterly worn-out that he was obliged to ask Tom to relieve him at the helm whilst he went down for a few hours' rest. Actæon and Hercules remained on watch on the forecastle.
The night was very dark; the sky was covered with heavy clouds that had formed in the chill evening air, and the sails on the top-masts were lost in the obscurity. At the stern, the lamps on either side of the binnacle cast a faint reflection on the metal mountings of the wheel, leaving the deck generally in complete darkness.
Towards three o'clock in the morning Tom was getting so heavy with sleepiness that he was almost unconscious. His eye, long fixed steadily on the compass, lost its power of vision, and he fell into a doze from which it would require more than a slight disturbance to arouse him.
Meantime a light shadow glided stealthily along the deck. Creeping gradually up to the binnacle, Negoro put down something heavy that he had brought in his hand. He stole a keen and rapid glance at the dial of the compass, and made his way back, unseen and unheard as he had come.
Almost immediately afterwards, Tom awakened from his slumber. His eye fell instinctively on the compass, and he saw in a moment that the ship was out of her proper course. By a turn of the helm he brought her head to what he supposed to be the east. But he was mistaken. During his brief interval of unconsciousness a piece of iron had been deposited beneath the magnetic needle, which by this means had been diverted thirty degrees to the right, and, instead of pointing due north, inclined far towards north-east.
Consequently it came to pass that the "Pilgrim," supposed by her young commander to be making good headway due east, was in reality, under the brisk north-west breeze, speeding along towards the south-east.