Time was lost in these manoeuvres, which had little chance of success.
Nightfall comes quickly in February. The native of Guernsey was
meditating upon the subject of this fog. He said to the St. Malo men:

"It will be thick!"

"An ugly sort of weather at sea," observed one of the St. Malo men.

The other added:

"A kind of thing which spoils a good passage."

The Guernsey passenger approached Clubin, and said:

"I'm afraid, Captain, that the fog will catch us."

Clubin replied:

"I wished to stay at St. Malo, but I was advised to go."

"By whom?"

"By some old sailors."

"You were certainly right to go," said the Guernsey man. "Who knows
whether there will not be a tempest to-morrow? At this season you may
wait and find it worse."

A few moments later, the Durande entered the fog bank.

The effect was singular. Suddenly those who were on the after-deck could
not see those forward. A soft grey medium divided the ship in two.

Then the entire vessel passed into the fog. The sun became like a dull
red moon. Everybody suddenly shivered. The passengers put on their
overcoats, and the sailors their tarpaulins. The sea, almost without a
ripple, was the more menacing from its cold tranquillity. All was pale
and wan. The black funnel and the heavy smoke struggled with the dewy
mist which enshrouded the vessel.

Dropping to westward was now useless. The captain kept the vessel's head
again towards Guernsey, and gave orders to put on the steam.

The Guernsey passenger, hanging about the engine-room hatchway, heard
the negro Imbrancam talking to his engineer comrade. The passenger
listened. The negro said:

"This morning, in the sun, we were going half steam on; now, in the fog,
we put on steam."

The Guernsey man returned to Clubin.

"Captain Clubin, a look-out is useless; but have we not too much steam
on?"

"What can I do, sir? We must make up for time lost through the fault of
that drunkard of a helmsman."

"True, Captain Clubin."

And Clubin added:

"I am anxious to arrive. It is foggy enough by day: it would be rather
too much at night."

The Guernsey man rejoined his St. Malo fellow-passengers, and remarked:

"We have an excellent captain."

At intervals, great waves of mist bore down heavily upon them, and
blotted out the sun; which again issued out of them pale and sickly. The
little that could be seen of the heavens resembled the long strips of
painted sky, dirty and smeared with oil,