CHAPTER XXIII
THE STORM
STRIKING the White Ensign and securing the guns the "Georgeos Nikolaos" awaited the expected breeze. It was not long in coming. Almost before the conflagration had burnt itself out in a succession of popping sounds, the placid surface was rippled by cat's paws that denoted something heavy behind it.
Heeling gently to the zephyr the felucca quickly gathered way and soon left the scene of her initial exploit far astern. By degrees the wind increased, until an extended milky-white wake gave evidence of her speed, while the long tiller vibrated under the pressure of the water against her rudder.
"Now she feels it, sir," remarked Mr. Gripper, as a squall struck the felucca full on the beam, and the tautened weather-shrouds twanged like harp-strings. "A thundering good job we know she's sound alow and aloft, for we're in for a tidy old dusting. There's something mighty heavy to windward," and he pointed to a bank of indigo-coloured clouds, the rugged edges of which were tinged with light grey and yellow hues.
"A couple of reefs in, don't you think?" asked the sub, raising his voice in order to make himself heard above the howling of the wind.
"Just as well, sir," agreed the gunner. "Seeing that we aren't in a hurry to get anywhere in particular we needn't run the risk of carrying away any of the gear for the sake of cracking on."
"Hands shorten sail!" bawled the sub.
Reefing was performed by the cumbersome process of lowering the heavy lateen yards on deck and rolling the foot of each sail sufficiently to allow the second row of reef points to be secured. The canvas was then rehoisted and sheeted home, but by this time the wind had dropped entirely. The tiller was charging from side to side under the severe buffeting of the waves against the useless rudder, until Mr. Gripper ordered the relieving tackle to be rove in order to prevent the helmsman's ribs being fractured by the flail-like blows of the oaken tiller. Save for the shaking of the sails and the clatter of the ropes and blocks against the mast a strange, almost uncanny silence prevailed. The air was hot and oppressive, while overhead the sky was overcast by a thick haze—the precursor of the storm cloud to which the gunner had called attention.