This day—the twenty-first of August, when the Queen Charlotte lay becalmed in the Chesapeake—had, as I said, been still and hot, with an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere. Though there was not a cloud in the sky, a ripple on the water, nor a breath of wind from any quarter, yet the experienced old seamen seemed grave and thoughtful, and looked to the rigging of their ship. And the captain paced the deck, casting an eye—now to the sky, now to the sea, and now to the rigging. “What can be the matter with the skipper?” asked one inexperienced passenger of another. “He’s on the look-out for squalls,” answered the other, carelessly, not believing what they said. Abaft, two Baltimore youths, homeward bound, were leaning over the taffrail, looking despondently into the motionless water. “Was ever such a sea and such a sky as this? Not a ripple, not a breath, and as hot as Hades! Heaven send that the wind would rise!” complained one. “Yes! it is a right down deuced bore to lay becalmed here, for days, perhaps, almost in gunshot of port,” grumbled the other. “Now, d’ye see them two d——d land lubbers with their elbows on the taffrail?” observed one bronzed and grizzled old “salt” to his shipmate. “They want to hurry the wind up! Avast there, my fine fellows! don’t you be impatient! The wind will come out from the west, and speak to you presently!” As noon approached an ominous change crept over the face of the heavens and the waters. Not a cloud was to be seen, yet the whole heavens visibly darkened, assuming a dull, hazy, coppery hue. Not a billow ruffled the surface of the waters, yet the whole vast sea perceptibly swelled. Not a breath of wind stirred, yet at intervals a low voice wailed across the waters as if nature mourned the coming destruction. The captain still walked the deck, telescope in hand, making observations, and occasionally giving orders. “What do you think of the weather, captain? Is there a storm brewing?” asked Lord Montressor, joining him. The skipper lowered his glass, and turning upon the questioner a sly look that might have been read—Do you really think I am going to tell you now?—replied: “By the soul of Nelson! I cannot at this moment inform you, my lord. It may be only a fresh wind that will take us large into port; and then again it may be the confoundest hurricane that has ever been seen on this coast!—Avast there! Mate, see that the lightning conductors are rigged out!” he said, suddenly breaking off to give the order. “Ay, ay, sir,” replied that officer, touching his hat, and going below to obey the command. “At least,” said Lord Montressor, resuming the conversation, “you have sufficient time to take every necessary precaution for the safety of the vessel.”