wretch, he cares for
nobody, and will not help those who call upon him in trouble. Carambo,
that for you!" exclaimed the captain, looking at the small shrine of the
saint at the bittacle, and snapping his fingers at the image; "that for
you, you useless wretch, who never help us in our trouble. The pope
must canonise some better saints for us, for all we have now are worn
out. They could do something formerly, but now I would not give two
ounces of gold for the whole calendar; as for you, you lazy old
scoundrel--" continued the captain, shaking his fist at poor Saint
Antonio.

The ship had now gained off the southern coast of Africa, and was about
one hundred miles from the Lagullas coast; the morning was beautiful, a
slight ripple only turned over the waves, the breeze was light and
steady, and the vessel was standing on a wind at the rate of about four
miles an hour.

"Blessed be the holy saints," said the captain, who had just gained the
deck; "another little slant in our favour, and we shall lay our course.
Again, I say, blessed be the holy saints, and particularly our worthy
patron, Saint Antonio, who has taken under his peculiar protection the
Nostra Senora da Monte. We have a prospect of fine weather; come,
signors, let us down to breakfast, and after breakfast, we enjoy our
cigarros upon the deck."

But the scene was soon changed; a bank of clouds rose up from the
eastward with a rapidity that to the seamen's eyes was unnatural, and it
soon covered the whole firmament; the sun was obscured, and all was one
deep and unnatural gloom; the wind subsided, and the ocean was hushed.
It was not exactly dark, but the heavens were covered with one red haze,
which gave an appearance as if the world was in a state of
conflagration.

In the cabin the increased darkness was first observed by Philip, who
went on deck; he was followed by the captain and passengers, who were in
a state of amazement. It was unnatural and incomprehensible. "Now,
holy Virgin, protect us!--what can this be?" exclaimed the captain in a
fright "Holy Saint Antonio, protect us!--but this is awful."

"There--there!" shouted the sailors, pointing to the beam of the vessel.
Every eye looked over the gunnel to witness what had occasioned such
exclamations. Philip, Schriften, and the captain, were side by side.
On the beam of the ship, not more than two cables' length distant, they
beheld slowly rising out of the water the tapering masthead and