away, aren't we?" asked the doctor.

"Not far. I don't think it'll last long. We'll make the boat fast
astern and get out of the wet." They did so, and entered the cabin.
Soon the squall, coming with a shock like that of a solid blow, struck
the hulk broadside to and careened her. From the cabin door they
watched the nearly horizontal rain as it swished across the deck, and
listened to the screaming of the wind, which prevented all
conversation. Silently they waited--one hour--two hours--then Boston
said: "This is getting serious. It's no squall. If it wasn't so late
in the season I'd call it a hurricane. I'm going on deck."

He climbed the companionway stairs to the poop, and shut the scuttle
behind him--for the rain was flooding the cabin--then looked around.
The shore and horizon were hidden by a dense wall of gray, which seemed
not a hundred feet distant. From to windward this wall was detaching
great waves or sheets of almost solid water, which bombarded the ship
in successive blows, to be then lost in the gray whirl to leeward.
Overhead was the same dismal hue, marked by hurrying masses of darker
cloud, and below was a sea of froth, white and flat; for no waves could
rise their heads in that wind. Drenched to the skin, he tried the
wheel and found it free in its movements. In front of it was a
substantial binnacle, and within a compass, which, though sluggish, as
from a well-worn pivot, was practically in good condition. "Blowing us
about nor'west by west," he muttered, as he looked at it--"straight up
the coast. It's better than the beach in this weather, but may land us
in Havana." He examined he boat. It was full of water, and tailing to
windward, held by its painter. Making sure that this was fast, he went
down.

"Doc," he said, as he squeezed the water from his limp cork helmet and
flattened it on the table, "have you any objections to being rescued by
some craft going into Havana?"

"I have--decided objections."

"So have I; but this wind is blowing us there--sideways. Now, such a
blow as this, at this time of year, will last three days at least, and
I've an idea that it'll haul gradually to the south, and west towards
the end of it. Where'll we be then? Either piled up on one of the
Bahama keys or interviewed by the Spaniards. Now I've been thinking of
a scheme on deck. We can't get back to camp for a while--that's
settled. This iron hull is worth something, and if we can take it