ew York."

"You are right. I ought to have done so."

"Well, sir, it's hard to illustrate and stick to truth. There is the
boatswain's whistle! I must go and see what's up. Pentland Firth is
ever restless and nobody minds that, but she gets into sudden passions
which need close watching, and I wouldn't wonder if there was not now
signs of a Pentland tantrum."

The Captain's supposition was correct. In a few minutes the ship was
enveloped in a livid creeping mist, and he heard the Captain shout,
"_All hands stand by to reef!_" Reef they did, but Pentland's temper was
rapidly rising, and in a few minutes there was an impetuous shout for
the storm jib, "_Quick_," and down came a blast from the north, and with
a rip and a roar the yacht leaped her full length. If her canvas had
been spread, she would have gone to the bottom; but under bare masts she
came quickly and beautifully to her bearings, shook herself like a gull,
and sped southward.

All night they were beating about in a fierce wind and heavy sea; and
Hatton, lying awake, listened to the mysterious hungering voice of the
waves, till he was strangely sad and lonely. And there was no Captain to
talk with, though he could hear his hoarse, strong voice above the roar
of wind and waters. For the sea was rising like the gable of a house,
but the yacht was in no trouble; she had held her own in far worse seas.
In the morning the sky was of snaky tints of yellow and gray, but the
wind had settled and the waves were flatting; but John saw bits of
trailing wreckage floating about their black depths, making the Firth
look savagely haggard.

On the second evening the Captain came to eat his dinner with John.
"The storm is over, Mr. Hatton," he said. "The sea has been out of her
wits, like an angry woman; but," he added with a smile, "we got the
better of her, and the wind has gone down. There is not breeze enough
now to make the yacht lie over."

"I could hear your voice, strong and cheerful, above all the uproar,
Captain, so I had no fear."

"We had plenty of sea room, sir, a good boat, and--"

"A good captain."

"Yes, sir, you may say that. The Pentland roared and raged a bit, but
the sea has her Master. She hears a voice we cannot hear. It says only
three words, Mr. Hatton, three words we cannot hear, but a great calm
follows them."

"And the three words are--?"

"_Peace! Be still_!"

Then John Hatton looked with a quick understanding into his Captain's
fac