"But I had an idea that it was blowing already," added Owen.
"So it is, in a mild way," I answered.
"If this is only in a mild way, what will it be when it blows harder?" asked Mrs. Shepard, nervously.
"It will be worse than it is now," I replied.
"Do you think we are in any danger, Captain Alick," inquired the lady, looking very anxiously into my face.
"I do not think we are in any danger," I added. "But it is going to blow a great deal harder than it does now."
"What will it do then, Captain Alick?" asked Miss Edith.
"The Sylvania is small, and she will pitch and roll a great deal more than she does now. Mr. Garningham has been in her during a very heavy gale, and he can tell you something about it."
"She stands up straight, and rolls quite over, so that we shall all be pitched against the ceiling of the cabin," added Owen, maliciously. "Then she goes down under the brine, quite out of sight of any one supposed to be on the top of the waves. The water may come down into this cabin like a young Niagara."
"Then there must be very great danger," said Mrs. Shepard.