The landlord was in amazement. "What, you are not going on the water in
such a storm?"
"Storm!" said the other, scornfully, "do you call such a sputter of
weather a storm?"
"You'll get drenched to the skin--You'll catch your death!" said Peechy
Prauw, affectionately.
"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the merman, "don't preach about
weather to a man that has cruised in whirlwinds and tornadoes."
The obsequious Peechy was again struck dumb. The voice from the water
was again heard in a tone of impatience; the bystanders stared with
redoubled awe at this man of storms, which seemed to have come up out
of the deep and to be called back to it again. As, with the assistance
of the negro, he slowly bore his ponderous sea-chest towards the shore,
they eyed it with a superstitious feeling; half doubting whether he
were not really about to embark upon it, and launch forth upon the wild
waves. They followed him at a distance with a lanthorn.
"Douse the light!" roared the hoarse voice from the water. "No one
wants light here!"
"Thunder and lightning!" exclaimed the veteran; "back to the house with
you!"
Wolfert and his companions shrunk back is dismay. Still their curiosity
would not allow them entirely to withdraw. A long sheet of lightning
now flickered across the waves, and discovered a boat, filled with men,
just under a rocky point, rising and sinking with the heavy surges, and
swashing the water at every heave.
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