“Oh, those horrible steam-kettles! I never before so heartily hated them as I do now. If one of them was to come thundering along now, without a bright look-out, she might be into us before our lights could be seen, or our warning shouts heard!” exclaimed Adair.
“Yes, indeed,” answered Murray. “I’m almost inclined to get the ladies on deck and to have a boat lowered, in case a steamer should run into us. We should have a better hope of saving their lives, for the sides of a yacht are but ill able to withstand a blow from a steamer going at even a moderate speed; and some of those steam-boat skippers, provided they make a fast passage, care very little what damage they may do to small craft in their way.”
Murray, however, kept all fast. He felt ashamed of making preparations for a catastrophe which might never occur. Hour after hour passed by, while they paced the deck with their hands in their pockets, whistling for a breeze. It was very trying, as they were in a hurry to get back.
“You had better go below, Saint Maur,” said Murray; “there is no necessity for us all to remain on deck.”
“Thank you; but I would rather assist in keeping a look-out, while either you or Captain Rogers turn in. I’ll keep moving, though, for I feel it rather cold;” and Desmond continued walking up and down at a quick pace.
Captain Rogers at last said he would go below to see what the ladies were about, and to advise them to turn in.
Scarcely had his head descended below the companion hatch than Murray exclaimed—
“Here’s a breeze at last! Its dead ahead though; but it will blow away the fog, I hope, and we shall be able to keep the yacht moving.”
Two or three minutes, however, passed before the vessel’s sails, feeling the influence of the wind, enabled her to gather way. Contrary to Murray’s expectations, the fog still hung as thickly as before above the water.
“Here, Murray, the ladies want you to settle a knotty point,” exclaimed Jack, from the foot of the companion ladder.