The storm is coming," said he, "and the wind in it. It will be
Eastward-ho now, for once, my merry men all!"

"Eastward-ho never brought us luck," said Jack in an undertone to Cary.
But by this time all eyes were turned to the north-west, where a black
line along the horizon began to define the boundary of sea and air, till
now all dim in mist.

"There comes the breeze."

"And there the storm, too."

And with that strangely accelerating pace which some storms seem to
possess, the thunder, which had been growling slow and seldom far away,
now rang peal on peal along the cloudy floor above their heads.

"Here comes the breeze. Round with the yards, or we shall be taken
aback."

The yards creaked round; the sea grew crisp around them; the hot air
swept their cheeks, tightened every rope, filled every sail, bent her
over. A cheer burst from the men as the helm went up, and they staggered
away before the wind, right down upon the Spaniard, who lay still
becalmed.

"There is more behind, Amyas," said Cary. "Shall we not shorten sail a
little?"

"No. Hold on every stitch," said Amyas. "Give me the helm, man.
Boatswain, pipe away to clear for fight."

It was done, and in ten minutes the men were all at quarters, while
the thunder rolled louder and louder overhead, and the breeze freshened
fast.

"The dog has it now. There he goes!" said Cary.

"Right before the wind. He has no liking to face us."

"He is running into the jaws of destruction," said Yeo. "An hour more
will send him either right up the Channel, or smack on shore somewhere."

"There! he has put his helm down. I wonder if he sees land?"

"He is like a March hare beat out of his country," said Cary, "and don't
know whither to run next."

Cary was right. In ten minutes more the Spaniard fell off again, and
went away dead down wind, while the Vengeance gained on him fast.
After two hours more, the four miles had diminished to one, while the
lightning flashed nearer and nearer as the storm came up; and from the
vast mouth of a black cloud-arch poured so fierce a breeze that Amyas
yielded unwillingly to hints which were growing into open murmurs, and
bade shorten sail.

On they rushed with scarcely lessened speed, the black arch following
fast, curtained by the flat gray sheet of pouring rain, before which the
water was boiling in a long white line; while every moment behind the
watery veil, a keen blue spark leapt down into the sea, or darted zigzag