"I should like to have got about half a mile further," he said;
"but I can see by the landmarks that we are making no way now. The
tide is beginning to suck in."
"How long will it be before we have water enough to cross the Spit?"
Lionel asked as they laid in the oars.
"Well nigh four hours, Master Lionel. Then, even if it keeps a
stark calm like this, we shall be able to get across the sands and
a mile or two up the channel before we meet the tide. There we must
anchor again till the first strength is past, and then if the wind
springs up we can work along at the edge of the sands against it.
There is no tide close in to the sands after the first two hours.
But I still think this is going to turn into wind presently; and
if it does it will be sharp and heavy, I warrant. It's either that
or rain."
The sky grew darker and darker until the water looked almost black
under a leaden canopy.
"I wish we were back into Bricklesey," Joe Chambers said. "I have
been well nigh fifteen years going backwards and forwards here, and
I do not know that ever I saw an awkwarder look about the sky. It
reminds me of what I have heard men who have sailed to the Indies
say they have seen there before a hurricane breaks. If it was
not that we saw the clouds flying fast overhead when we started,
I should have said it was a thick sea fog that had rolled in upon
us.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142