“My God!” he cried. “It is a storm coming and such a thing in the tropics is no light affair.”
Pomp and Barney saw the danger as well.
“A storm!” cried Barney. “Begorra, it luks to me loike a hurrycane!”
“I jes’ fink we bettah get out ob dis place!” cried Pomp.
This was true.
But where should they go?
The brigands were below. It would hardly be safe to descend. To remain where they were would be to expose themselves to the fury of the storm.
It was a dilemma.
But there was no time in which to make a decision.
Even while they were thinking about it there came a terrific gust of wind, which sent the Kite nigh over on her beam ends, so to speak.