bowing deeply to a lively sea. The first
mate--a powerful looking man of forty, who had lost one eye, and
whose face was deeply seamed by an explosion of powder in an
engagement with a French privateer--came down to the meal, while
the second mate took the duty on deck. Bob found some difficulty in
keeping his dish before him, for the Antelope was lying well over,
with a northerly wind abeam.

"She is travelling well, Probert," the captain said. "We have got
her in capital trim, this time. Last time we were too light, and
could not stand up to our sails.

"If this wind holds, we shall make a fast run of it. We will keep
her well inshore, until we get down to the Scillys; and then
stretch across the bay. The nearer we keep to the coast, the less
fear there is of our running against one of those French
privateers."

The wind held steady, and Bob enjoyed the voyage immensely, as the
brig sailed along the coast. After passing Portland Bill they lost
sight of land until, after eight hours' run, a bold headland
appeared on the weather beam.

"That is the Start," the captain said. "When I get abeam of it we
shall take our bearings, and then shape our course across the bay.
If this wind does but hold, we shall make quick work of it."

Presently the tiller was put up and, as the brig's head paid off,
the yards were braced square; and she ran rapidly along towards the
southwest, with the wind nearly dead aft. The next morning when Bob
went on deck he found that the wind had dropped, and the brig was
scarcely moving through the water.

"This is a change, Mr. Probert," he said to the first mate, who was
in charge of the deck.

"Yes, and not a pleasant one," the officer replied. "I don't like
the look of the sky, either. I have just sent down to the captain,
to ask him to step on deck."

Bob looked round. The sky was no longer bright and clear. There was
a dull, heavy look overhead; and a smoky haze seemed to hang over
the horizon, all round. Bob thought it looked dull, but wondered
why the mate should send for the captain.

The latter came up on deck, in a minute or two.

"I don't much like the look of the sky, sir," the mate said. "The
wind has died suddenly out, this last half hour; and the swell has
got more kick in it than it had. I fancy the wind is going round to
the southwest; and that, when it does come, it will come hard."

"I think you are right, Mr. Probert. I glanced at the glass, as I
came up, and it ha