It was not long before Dick's sanguine expectations were partially realized, for on the very next day, which was the 27th, the barometer began to rise, not rapidly, but steadily, indicating that its elevation would probably continue. The sea remained exceedingly rough, but the violence of the wind, which had veered slightly towards the west, had perceptibly diminished. The tempest had passed its greatest fury, and was beginning to wear itself out.
Not a sail, however, could yet be hoisted; the smallest show of canvas would have been carried away in an instant; nevertheless Dick hoped that before another twenty-four hours were over, the "Pilgrim" might be able to carry a storm-jib.
In the course of the night the wind moderated still more and the pitching of the ship had so far diminished that the passengers began to reappear on deck. Mrs. Weldon was the first to leave her enforced imprisonment. She was anxious to speak to Dick, whom she might have expected to find looking pale and wan after his almost superhuman exertions and loss of sleep. But she was mistaken; however much the lad might suffer from the strain in after-years, at present he exhibited no symptoms of failing energy.
"Well, Captain Dick, how are you?" she said, as she advanced towards him holding out her hand.
Dick smiled.
"You call me captain, Mrs. Weldon," he answered, "but you do not seem disposed to submit implicitly to
[Illustration: "You have acquitted yourself like a man.">[
captain's orders. Did I not direct you to keep to your cabin?"
"You did," replied the lady; "but observing how much the storm had abated, I could not resist the temptation to disobey you."
"Yes, madam, the weather is far more promising; the barometer has not fallen since yesterday morning, and I really trust the worst is over now."