When, however, they opened the door and presented themselves, for a minute Mary could scarcely recognise them, so changed were they since the day they had parted from her after the picnic—Harry in his bright new uniform, and David in his trim yachtsman’s attire. Now their hair was long, their cheeks were sunken, at least so far as could be seen through the powder which begrimed them, and their dresses were covered from head to foot with tar; still, the moment they spoke, she sprang forward and took them warmly by the hands.
“Oh, I am so thankful that you have not been lost, as we thought you were,” she exclaimed, and the tears came into her eyes; “this is a very sad way of meeting, but still I hope God will protect us all, and I am thankful to see you both.”
Most of the ladies, who were all passengers, were eager to hear of the boys’ adventures. These they briefly gave. Some, however, were too frightened by the sound of the hurricane, and the tossing and rolling of the ship, to listen to them.
“Do you think there is any danger?” at last asked Mary of Harry.
“I hope not,” said Harry, “but Captain Rymer knows more about it than I do.”
Captain Rymer, who at this moment entered the cabin, looked somewhat anxious, though he endeavoured to speak in a cheerful voice, and began to express his satisfaction at the escape of his young friends from the numerous dangers to which they had been exposed. Night was now coming on, and it was evident that the ship was in the midst of a regular West Indian hurricane. The French officer was evidently a good seaman, and did all that could be done under the circumstances for the safety of the ship. The topgallant-masts were struck, and every sail was furled except a closely reefed fore-topsail, with which the ship ran before the gale. Night had now come on; the wind, as is generally the case during a hurricane, shifted so much that it was difficult to ascertain in what direction she was driving. Captain Rymer several times went on deck, but had a not very satisfactory report to give on his return.
“As long as the ship does not spring a leak we have nothing to fear, however,” he observed.
Still the ship rolled and pitched so much that it seemed scarcely possible that a structure of wood and iron could hold together. The poor ladies had to sit on the deck of the cabin and hold on by the legs of the table, while the lamp swung backwards and forwards in a way that threatened every instant to cause its fracture. Harry and David, though they had seen enough of storms, agreed to go up on deck and see what was taking place. One glance satisfied them. The mountain seas, covered with white foam, were rolling up on either side of the ship, and threatened every instant to come down upon her deck. They gladly descended again.
“I don’t at all like the look of things, I confess,” said David. “As long, however, as Captain Rymer is satisfied that all is right, so should we be.”