“If we do, I suppose, like any other old wine-bibbers, we can find our way to Madeira.”
“But I am very sorry that Mr. Pelham was unable to return,” continued the captain.
“I think he will feel worse about it than any one else,” answered Scott.
“It is for his sake that I am sorry.”
“I don’t object to a cruise on our own account as long as we keep within the strict line of duty.”
“I am not alarmed, though in such a night as this I cannot help feeling a little anxious about the vessel,” said Capt. Wainwright. “I had no idea that we should have such a storm as this proves to be. I don’t see the lights of the Josephine.”
“I saw her starboard light within five minutes,” added Scott, as he peered through the gloom of the night in the direction the consort had last been seen. “She can’t be far from us.”
“I see it now,” added the captain. “The tops of the waves shut it out from our view at times.”
“Now we have lost it again.”
The Tritonia rolled and pitched fearfully, and of course the Josephine was doing the same. The night was a long and dismal one. Twice it became necessary to call all hands to lay the vessel to under the storm staysail. Even the jib and reefed foresail were too much for her.