e warn't coming up till
he knowed where the professor was.
The storm let go about this time with all its might; and it was dreadful
the way the thunder boomed and tore, and the lightning glared out, and
the wind sung and screamed in the rigging, and the rain come down. One
second you couldn't see your hand before you, and the next you could
count the threads in your coat-sleeve, and see a whole wide desert of
waves pitching and tossing through a kind of veil of rain. A storm like
that is the loveliest thing there is, but it ain't at its best when you
are up in the sky and lost, and it's wet and lonesome, and there's just
been a death in the family.
We set there huddled up in the bow, and talked low about the poor
professor; and everybody was sorry for him, and sorry the world had
made fun of him and treated him so harsh, when he was doing the best he
could, and hadn't a friend nor nobody to encourage him and keep him from
brooding his mind away and going deranged. There was plenty of clothes
and blankets and everything at the other end, but we thought we'd ruther
take the rain than go meddling back there.
CHAPTER V. LAND
WE tried to make some plans, but we couldn't come to no agreement. Me
and Jim was for turning around and going back home, but Tom allowed that
by the time daylight come, so we could see our way, we would be so far
toward England that we might as well go there, and come back in a ship,
and have the glory of saying we done it.
About midnight the storm quit and the moon come out and lit up the
ocean, and we begun to feel comfortable and drowsy; so we stretched out
on the lockers and went to sleep, and never woke up again till sun-up.
The sea was sparkling like di'monds, and it was nice weather, and pretty
soon our things was all dry again.
We went aft to find some breakfast, and the first thing we noticed was
that there was a dim light burning in a compass back there under a hood.
Then Tom was disturbed. He says:
"You know what that means, easy enough. It means that somebody has got
to stay on watch and steer this thing the same as he would a ship, or
she'll wander around and go wherever the wind wants her to."
"Well," I says, "what's she been doing since--er--since we had the
accident?"
"Wandering," he says, kinder troubled--"wandering, without any doubt.
She's in a wind now that's blowing her south of east. We don't know how
long that's been going on, either."
So then he p'inte
|