"My father has seven sons, and I am the eldest," said Gennaro, that curly-headed, bright-eyed Sicilian youth, for whom life seemed all sunshine. "Why, what am I to do?"
The waterspout was advancing rapidly, the sea was lashed by the mighty waves, and the ship, like a nutshell, was being tossed against it.
Vranic, who had drawn the cabalistic sign, handed it to the captain.
"Stab that star in the centre, quickly."
The Slav took out a little black dagger, and gave it to the youth.
"Be quick! there is no time to be lost."
The murmuring and hissing sound the column of water had been making had changed into the deafening roar of a waterfall. It seemed to be whirling round with vertiginous rapidity, as it came upon them.
"Make haste!" added the captain.
"But why?"
"Do it! this is no time to ask questions!" replied the master.