The fisherman, allured by the large price offered, and having less to risk than the captain of the laden schooner, promptly embarked, under the astonished eyes of the anchored captain, whom Tom gravely saluted by placing thumb to nose and wiggling his fingers. The captain replied by vociferously hoping to God the gale would blow the two travellers to hell. The gale, however, continued to remain in abeyance, though the sky was filled with clouds and the sea had an unaccountable choppy look and feel. Tom, having questioned the fisherman regarding localities, now proposed that the latter should take them to Newport, and doubled his offer of pay. Induced by greed and by the confidence born of previous good luck in all weathers at sea, the islander consented, regardless of the capricious behavior of his sail and the sudden ominous quiverings of his boat. Yet the storm held off. Making clever use of the wind when it was brisk, the skipper had his boat at evening off the precipitous southern coast of the island on which Newport lies. As he was about to tack, in order to round the point and so reach the town, which then occupied only a spot on the island's western side, the storm came, almost without a moment's warning, and bringing with it a pelting deluge of rain. Before the mariner could regain any kind of mastery of his little craft, it had been dashed close to the corrugated land. Dick and Tom escaped being thrown out of the boat only by grasping its timbers and holding on with all strength. The vessel was tossed about, for a time, like a cork. Once it seemed in the act of hurling itself into a gaping chasm which rent the rough sea-wall from the height of forty feet to unknown depths,--a cleft as wide as a man is tall, and cut back into the land a hundred and fifty feet. But the boat fell short of these grinning jaws and in another minute was far away from them.