We
have been driven along in this fashion for the best part of two
days; the "stiffish breeze" has gradually freshened into "a
gale;" the top-gallants have been lowered, and, as I write, the
wind is blowing with a velocity of fifty or sixty miles an hour.
Although the "Chancellor" has many good points, her drift is
considerable, and we have been carried far to the south we can
only guess at our precise position, as the cloudy atmosphere
entirely precludes us from taking the sun's altitude.
All along throughout this period, my fellow-passengers are
totally ignorant of the extraordinary course that we are taking
England lies to the NORTH-EAST, yet we are sailing directly
SOUTH-EAST, and Robert Curtis owns that he is quite bewildered;
he cannot comprehend why the captain, ever since this north-
easterly gale has been blowing, should persist in allowing the
ship to drive to the south, instead of tacking to the north-west
until she gets into better quarters.
I was alone with Curtis to-day upon the poop, and could not help
saying to him "Curtis, is your captain mad?"
"Perhaps, sir, I might be allowed to ask what YOU think upon that
matter," was his cautious reply.
"Well to say the truth," I answered, "I can hardly tell; but I
confess there is every now and then a wandering in his eye, and
an odd look on his face that I do not like. Have you ever sailed
with him before?"
"No; this is our first voyage together. Again last night I spoke
to him about the route we were taking, but he only said he knew
all about it, and that it was all right.
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