CHAPTER XII RIGHT THROUGH THE BLOCKADE
By next morning the barometer had fallen another tenth. Dirty-gray storm-clouds were slowly moving up from the west. From time to time faint cat's-paws appeared upon the water, now from the north, now from the west, and again from a south-westerly direction. That was very satisfactory, for it meant beyond all doubt, an early change of weather. The second-officer searched the horizon keenly with his glasses, and then muttered something to himself.
'I'm betting on a north-wester,' said I, 'with rain, and perhaps also fog. Can't you smell anything?'
The mate sniffed suspiciously. 'I don't think I'll take you,' said he. 'I was just going to say myself that I felt as if——'
'We shan't quarrel over that, then! I believe I can smell the fog coming. Wait and see.'
The eight o'clock observation gave us one degree of west longitude. We had therefore, though lying to with engines stopped, been carried westward by the set of the current, to the extent of a whole degree of longitude. The latitude had only altered by a few minutes, southward, as we had found a few hours before.
A dark shadow, which was now observable on the water, to the south, made us reach hastily for our glasses.