ppearance that usually forebodes plenty of wind
and, not improbably, rain. The breeze was blowing fresh from the
westward, having hauled round from the north-west during the night, and
the brig was pounding through a short, lumpy sea under single-reefed
topsails. The air was damp and raw, with a nip in it that sent
everybody into their thick winter clothing, and called for a fire in the
cabin stove; and the deck, as far aft as the waist, was streaming with
water that had come in over the weather rail in the form of spray.
Everybody on deck, except Miss Trevor, had donned sea boots and
oilskins, and the only creature who appeared to enjoy the weather was
Sailor, the dog, who trotted about the deck and through the heavy
showers of spray with manifest delight. There was no hope whatever of
getting a sight of the sun that day; but this was a matter of
comparatively slight importance, since Leslie had very carefully taken
the bearings of the land, and had thus been able to verify his
reckoning.

As the day wore on the wind freshened perceptibly, while with every mile
that the brig made to the southward the sea grew longer and heavier, and
the air more bleak and nipping. At noon, when the watch was called,
Leslie seized the opportunity to take a second reef in the topsails, and
to haul up and furl the mainsail; an arrangement that was productive of
an immediate change for the better, since the brig went along almost as
fast as before, while she took the seas more easily, and was altogether
drier and more comfortable. The barometer, however, was falling
steadily; a circumstance that, combined with the look of the sky to
windward, led Leslie to the conclusion that they were booked for a
regular Cape Horn gale. All through the afternoon the weather steadily
became more unpleasant, and about one bell in the first dog-watch, it
came on to rain--a cold, heavy, persistent downpour--while the wind
piped up so fiercely that Leslie decided to haul down the third reef in
his topsails, brail up and stow the trysail, and take in the inner jib
without further delay, thus snugging the brig down for the night.

The next morning dawned dark, gloomy, and so thick with driving rain
that it was impossible to see anything beyond half a mile from the brig
in any direction. But within that radius the scene was depressing
enough, a steep, high sea of an opaque greenish-grey tint sweeping down,
foam-capped and menacing, upon the brig from to