It was near daybreak on the morning of a night of unclouded splendour when the mate of the Penelope aroused his chief with the information that appearances to windward betokened a change of some sort in the weather.

 

“If there is a change at all it must be for the worse,” said Arkal, raising himself on one elbow, rubbing his eyes, yawning, and then casting a glance over the side where the rippling foam told that the wind was increasing. Raising his eyes to the windward horizon, he threw aside the sheepskin blanket that covered him and rose up quickly.

 

“There is indeed a change coming. Rouse the men and reduce the sail, mate. Bestir you! The squalls are sudden here.”

 

The orders were obeyed with promptitude. In a few minutes the sail was reduced to its smallest size, and all loose articles about the vessel were made fast.

 

“You expect a gale, captain?” asked Bladud, who was aroused by the noise of the preparations.

 

“Ay—or something like one. When a cloud like that rises up on the horizon there is usually something more than a puff coming. You had better keep well under the lee of the bulwarks when it strikes us.”

 

Bladud’s nautical experience had already taught him what to expect and how to act in the circumstance that threatened. Standing close to the side of the ship, he laid hold of a stanchion and looked out to windward, as most of the crew were by that time doing. Captain Arkal himself took the helm.

 

The increasing daylight showed them that the bank of cloud was spreading quickly over the sky towards the zenith, while a soft hissing sound told of the approaching wind. Soon the blackness on the sea intensified, and white gleams as of flashing light showed where the waves were torn into foam by the rushing wind.

 

With a warning to “hold on fast!” the captain turned the vessel’s head so as to meet the blast. So fierce was it that it cut off the crests of the wavelets, blowing the sea almost flat for a time, and producing what is known as a white squall. The sail was kept fluttering until the fury of the onset was over, then the wind was allowed to fill it; the Penelope bent down until the sea began to bubble over the lee bulwarks, and in a few moments more she was springing over the fast rising waves like a nautical racehorse.

 

Every moment the gale increased, obliging the mariners to show but a corner of the sail. Even this had at last to be taken in, and, during the whole of that dismal day and of the black night which followed, the Penelope drove helplessly before the wind under a bare pole. Fortunately the gale was favourable, so that they were enabled to lay their course, but it required all the skill and seamanship of Captain Arkal to prevent their being pooped and swamped by the waves that rolled hissing after them as if hungering mightily to swallow them up.

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