“Surely she’s a stout craft, and will stand a worse gale than this,” answered Roger.
“I do not know what you would call a worse gale than this,” said Stephen. “It makes the house rock, and I should not be surprised to find many an old elm torn up by the roots.”
“I wish that I had been on board to assist our brave friend and his crew,” said Roger.
“You may have reason to be thankful that you are safe on shore,” remarked Stephen. “Such a gale as this is sufficient to drive even a stouter ship than the Benbow frigate from her anchors; but we must wait patiently till the morning to ascertain the truth.”
“Why should that be?” exclaimed Roger. “I am not afraid of the wind, and can find my way if it were twice as dark as it is.—Come along.”
Stephen, however, who was not inclined to expose himself to the inclemency of the weather, proposed that they should wait till the morning.
“No, no,” said Roger, rising and putting on his clothes; “if we are to be of any use we should go at once.”
“Certainly, if such is the case,” said Stephen, also rising. “But I am afraid that we can render no assistance to the stout frigate if she is in peril.”
“Let us go and see about it, at all events,” said Roger, who had finished dressing.
They put on their thick overcoats; fortunately Stephen had left his some days before at the manor-house. They had hitherto awakened no one, and had just reached the side-door when they saw a light coming along the passage.