ighty Atlantic.

By the time it was over the yacht its shape had changed, and it passed
away to leeward formless, a mere rag of yellowish vapour. But it had
lingered long enough as a compacted colossal hand, pointing seawards,
to astonish and even to awe me. It might have been that my brain was a
little weakened by what we had passed through, and by want of rest; it
is certain, anyway, that the spectacle of that hand of vapour touched
and stirred every superstitious instinct in me. Grace, as well as
Caudel and the others, had stared up at it with wonder, Job Crew agape,
and the boy Bobby squeezing his knuckles into his eyes again and again
as though to make sure. As it changed its form and floated away, I
exclaimed to my sweetheart:

"It was the finger of Heaven pointing out our road to us, and telling
us what to do."

"It was a wonderfully shaped cloud," said she.

"Grace, after that sign," I cried excitedly, "I would not remain in
this yacht though her leak were stopped, all sail made upon her, and
Penzance as far off as you can see," said I, pointing.

She looked, awed by the effect of the apparition of the cloud upon me,
and held my hand in silence with her eyes fixed on my face.

The ship having canvas upon her, settled slowly upon our bow at a safe
distance, but our drift was very nearly hers, and during those weary
hours of waiting for the sea to abate, the two crafts fairly held the
relative positions they had occupied at the outset. The interest we
excited in the people aboard of her was ceaseless. The line of her
bulwarks remained dark with heads, and the glimmer of the white faces
gave an odd pulsing look to the whole length of them, as the heave of
the ship alternated the stormy light. They believed us on our own
report to be sinking, and that might account for their tireless gaze
and riveted attention.

I could well imagine the deplorable figure our yacht made, as she
soared and sank, time after time plunging into some hollow that put her
out of sight to the ship, leaving nothing showing but the splintered
masthead above the clear emerald green or frothing summit of the
swollen heap of water. At such times the spectators aboard the
_Carthusian_ might well have supposed us gone for ever.

CHAPTER VIII

OUTWARD BOUND

On a sudden, much about the hour of noon, there came a lull; the wind
dropped as if by magic, here and there over the wide green surface of
ocean the foam glanced, but