ward during the whole day, borne on by
monstrous waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to
theirs. Twenty times she seemed almost to be submerged by these
mountains of water which rose behind her; but the adroit management of
the pilot saved her. The passengers were often bathed in spray, but
they submitted to it philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; but
Aouda, with her eyes fastened upon her protector, whose coolness amazed
her, showed herself worthy of him, and bravely weathered the storm. As
for Phileas Fogg, it seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his
programme.

Up to this time the Tankadere had always held her course to the north;
but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from
the north-west. The boat, now lying in the trough of the waves, shook
and rolled terribly; the sea struck her with fearful violence. At
night the tempest increased in violence. John Bunsby saw the approach
of darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. He
thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken
speed. After a consultation he approached Mr. Fogg, and said, "I
think, your honour, that we should do well to make for one of the ports
on the coast."

"I think so too."

"Ah!" said the pilot. "But which one?"

"I know of but one," returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.

"And that is--"

"Shanghai."

The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely
realise so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, "Well--yes!
Your honour is right. To Shanghai!"

So the Tankadere kept steadily on her northward track.

The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did
not founder. Twice it could have been all over with her if the crew
had not been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not
utter a complaint. More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from
the violence of the waves.

Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undiminished fury; but
the wind now returned to the south-east. It was a favourable change,
and the Tankadere again bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though
the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks
which would have crushed a craft less solidly built. From time to time
the coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in
sight. The Tankadere was alone upon the sea.

There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these be