At twelve o’clock the gale had decreased to such a degree that they were able to shake two reefs out of the main top-sail and set the topgallant sail. The action of the sea, moreover, was much less violent. The weather had cleared, the pale blue sky could be seen shining through the white mist that fled along it, and the sun stood round and clean and coppery in the heavens, throwing a dark red lustre upon the quick, passionate play of the sea beneath. Some of the passengers crawled upon deck and gazed with wonderment around them. Certainly the panorama was a somewhat different one from what had been unrolled to their eyes the day before. The ship had a fagged and jaded look with her drenched decks, her ropes blown slack with the violence of the wind, and the canvas made unequal to the eye by the reefs in the topsails. It was again Holdsworth’s watch on deck. The captain walked up and down chuckling over the improved aspect of the weather and on the wind, which was drawing more easterly, and therefore more favourable. “You can shake out the reefs, Mr. Holdsworth. She’ll bear it now,” he called out. Out reefs it was: the ship felt the increased pressure, and rushed forward like a liberated racehorse. “This is capital!” exclaimed the old General, tottering about with outstretched hands, ever on the alert for a special roll. “A week of this, captain, will carry us a good way on our road.” “Ay, sir, and we must make up for lost time.” And then presently he gave orders to set the mainsail and the other two topgallant sails. “The glass still keeps low, sir,” said Holdsworth. “But let’s take advantage of the daylight, Mr. Holdsworth. We mustn’t lose an opportunity.”