"I think we are going to have a bad storm, Captain Hill," he said.
"That's a weather breeder."
The captain watched the cloud for a moment, and then answered,
quietly: "I think you are right, Mr. Holdfast. You may give your
orders accordingly."
The sails were reefed, and the vessel was prepared for the warfare
with the elements which awaited it.
The little cloud increased portentiously in size. All at once a strong
wind sprang up, the sea roughened, and the billows grew white with
fury, while the good ship, stanch as she was, creaked and groaned and
was tossed as if it were a toy boat on the wrathful ocean.
The passengers were all seriously alarmed. They had never before
realized what a storm at sea was. Even a man of courage may well be
daunted by the terrific power of the sea when it is roused to such an
exhibition.
"Harry," said the professor, "this is terrible."
"Yes, indeed," answered the boy, gravely.
It became so rough and difficult to stand on deck, on account of the
vessel being tossed about like a cockleshell, that Harry felt
constrained to go below.
As he passed the cabin of Montgomery Clinton, he heard a faint voice
call his name.
Entering, he saw the dude stretched out in his berth, with an
expression of helpless terror in his weak face.
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