“All right, Captain Jared. And now I must be going, and many thanks for your confidence and advice. Good night, Captain Jared!”
“Good night, Obed, and good luck!”
CHAPTER XIV.
Twenty-Three to One.
The absence of wind kept the schooner at anchor off Brewster for two days. During this time Hoppy Mayo avoided a clash with Dunton, though the latter’s surliness was increased by his enforced inactivity. The frigate was expected back any moment now and Dunton knew Captain Raggett would be displeased with the meagre results of the schooner’s cruise if she were obliged to remain in idleness off Brewster. However, there was no help for it, and unless a favorable breeze came up the best the surveying party could do would be to send a small boat as far eastward as Orleans creek, a distance of about two miles. Further than this Dunton decided not to risk his men. His naturally suspicious temperament caused him to imagine all sorts of traps laid for him by the accursed Yankees who, he well knew, were watching his every movement from the shore.
On the evening of the second day, the aspect of the sky betokened a change of weather. The atmosphere was very still and the sun went down in a blaze of blood-red radiance. Hoppy was tranquilly smoking his pipe after supper when Dunton approached and said:
“Looks like a change, Mayo? I don’t remember having seen such a sunset since I came to this coast.”
The American had seen many such sunsets and he knew their meaning. After a keen look at the steel-blue cloud that was showing up over the spot where the sun had disappeared, he answered the officer.
“Yes, Mr. Dunton, it certainly looks as if we were in for one of our summer tempests. I don’t like the look of that cloud.”
“There is not a breath of air at present, Mayo.”
“No, sir; that is one of the signs of a tempest in this locality. It may not come up until midnight, but we are going to have it before tomorrow morning.”