.

Long surges succeeded each other without, as yet, being dashed
together. However, they were higher than the force of the wind
accounted for. One must conclude from that, that there was very bad
weather in the west, perhaps at a rather short distance, and that it
would not be long in reaching these parts.

Negoro watched that vast extent of sea, which was greatly troubled,
around the "Pilgrim." Then his eyes, always cold and dry, turned toward
the sky.

The aspect of the sky was disturbing. The vapors moved with very
different velocities. The clouds of the upper zone traveled more
rapidly than those of the low strata of the atmosphere. The case then
must be foreseen, in which those heavy masses would fall, and might
change into a tempest, perhaps a hurricane, what was yet only a very
stiff breeze--that is to say, a displacement of the air at the rate of
forty-three miles an hour.

Whether Negoro was not a man to be frightened, or whether he understood
nothing of the threats of the weather, he did not appear to be
affected. However, an evil smile glided over his lips. One would say,
at the end of his observations, that this state of things was rather
calculated to please him than to displease him. One moment he mounted
on the bowsprit and crawled as far as the ropes, so as to extend his
range of vision, as if he were seeking some indication on the horizon.
Then he descended again, and tranquilly, without having pronounced a
single word, without having made a gesture, he regained the crew's
quarters.

Meanwhile, in the midst of all these fearful conjunctions, there
remained one happy circumstance which each one on board ought to
remember; it was that this wind, violent as it was or might become, was
favorable, and that the "Pilgrim" seemed to be rapidly making the
American coast. If, indeed, the weather did not turn to tempest, this
navigation would continue to be accomplished without great danger, and
the veritable perils would only spring up when the question would be to
land on some badly ascertained point of the coast.

That was indeed what Dick Sand was already asking himself. When he
should once make the land, how should he act, if he did not encounter
some pilot, some one who knew the coast? In case the bad weather should
oblige him to seek a port of refuge, what should he do, because that
coast was to him absolutely unknown? Indeed, he had not yet to trouble
himself with that contingency. However, when t