The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso SeaHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
General
The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Sargasso Sea -- Fiction
It was so, at all events, in our instance; for, after our ten days of
stagnation on the rolling ocean, a change came almost as suddenly as the
calm had set in, the weather breaking towards the close of the very day
that had witnessed the downfall of Davis and Jackson's elevation to the
dignity of the poop.
Every evening during the continuance of the calm, as I think I have
mentioned, the sun went down below the horizon like a ball of fire,
while a thick misty fog afterwards enveloped the sea; but this day when
we came on deck after dinner, about the middle of the second dog watch,
the sky, for a wonder, was quite clear, and the glorious orb sank to
rest with some of that old splendour of his which I had noticed when we
were threading our way amongst the islands. Long after he had
disappeared, too, from view the heavens were lit up with a ruby radiance
which was reflected below in the water, making it look like a crimson
ocean.
"We're going to have a change at last, Marline," said Captain Miles
rubbing his hands together. "It is better late than never!"
"Aye," responded the first mate who stood by the binnacle; "the
question, though, is, what change?"
"Hang it, man," exclaimed the captain testily, "anything is preferable
to this confounded calm."
"Well, I don't quite agree with you there," said Mr Marline drily;
"there is such a thing as changing for the worse. Have you looked at
the glass, eh?"
"'Pon my word, I have not once glanced at it this evening! Dear me,
what on earth could I have been thinking of?" ejaculated the captain in
a sort of apologetic way, darting down instantly below to consult his
unfailing guide, the barometer, which I suppose he had looked at so
vainly for many days past that he had given up the instrument as
incorrigible.
In another moment, however, he was on deck again, rubbing his hands as
triumphantly together as before.
"Pooh, nonsense, Marline!" he cried, "you're an old croaker, saying that
the change would possibly be for the worse! Why, the glass is rising,
man, rising steadily; and, I've no doubt we'll have a splendid breeze
ere nightfall, and glorious weather."
"All right, sir, we'll see," was the mate's cautious answer.
Meanwhile, the after-glow faded out of the sky and the stars began to
come out in batches, especially to the north-west, where they shone as
bright as diamonds, blinking and twinkling with various colours as one
looked at them steadfastly, and seeming ever so much larger than usual.
A faint stir in the air also became perceptible, and the idle sails,
that had so long flapped against the yards lazily only with the roll of
the ship as she lurched to port or starboard with the ocean swell, were
crumpled out a bit, as if they half felt inclined to expand their folds;
but there was not wind enough for this, so they presently flattened
themselves again, determined, apparently, to take it easy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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