at, if I fell in with any enemy, I
would, at all events, endeavour to escape by stratagem. My men would, I
knew, support me. Nol Grampus and Rockets I was sure I could trust, and
the others I had chosen because they were sharp clever fellows, and up
to anything.

It was not till the 3rd of September that I weathered the east end of
the island of Jamaica. I cruised off Morant Point for some time,
keeping a very bright look-out for the Druid. She was nowhere to be
seen. Sir Peter had directed me not to lose much time in looking for
her. She might have chased an enemy for leagues away and not be back to
her cruising ground for days. Perhaps she might have taken some prizes
and returned to Port Royal. As I began to lose all hope of seeing her
before nightfall, the wind came fair for me to proceed through the
windward passage. I accordingly put up my helm, made all the sail I
could, and stood for the island of Heneago.

On the evening of the 6th I made Cape Tiberoon, on the west end of the
island of Saint Domingo, without having fallen in with any vessels, and
about eight o'clock the same evening I passed the Navasa, and carried a
fine breeze till the following morning, when I brought Donna Maria to
bear east at the distance of two or three leagues. I had not liked the
look of the weather for some hours.

"What do you think of it?" said I to Grampus, as I saw the clouds
gathering thickly around us from all directions, while the sea assumed a
peculiarly dark, leaden, ominous colour.

"Why, sir, Mr Hurry, do you see, to my mind, the wider berth we give
the land the better," he replied, giving his usual hitch to his
trowsers. "There's what they calls in these parts a whirlwind or old
Harry Cane coming on, or my name is not Nol Grampus."

I was too much afraid that Nol was right, and accordingly stood off the
land under all sail, keeping a look-out, however, on the signs of the
weather, so as to take in our canvas in time before the gale came on. I
had not, notwithstanding this, made good much more than a league when it
fell a dead calm. The sails flapped idly against the masts, and the
little vessel rolled from side to side, moved by the long, slow, heaving
undulations which rolled in from the offing.

"I'm not quite certain that you are right, Grampus, as to the coming
whirlwind, but we will shorten sail, at all events," I observed.

"Beg pardon, Mr Hurry, sir; but just do you follow an old seaman's
advice