of air, pushed beyond their proper limits, were now setting back
again, like a tide on its reflux. This cause produced the northern gale
that succeeded the hurricane.

The wind that came from off the shores of Vaud was steady and fresh. The
barks of the Leman are not constructed for beating to windward, and it
might even have been questioned, whether the Winkelried would have borne
her canvass against so heavy a breeze. Maso, however, appeared to
understand himself thoroughly, and as he had acquired the influence which
hardihood and skill are sure to obtain over doubt and timidity in
situations of hazard, he was obeyed by all on board with submission, if
not with zeal. No more was heard of the headsman or of his supposed agency
in the storm; and, as he prudently kept himself in the back-ground, so as
not to endanger a revival of the superstition of his enemies, he seemed
entirely forgotten.

The business of getting the anchors occupied a considerable time, for Maso
refused, now there existed no necessity for the sacrifice, to permit a
yarn to be cut; but, released from this hold on the water, the bark
whirled away, and was soon driving before the wind. The mariner was at the
helm, and, causing the head-sail to be loosened, he steered directly for
the rocks of Savoy. This manoeuvre excited disagreeable suspicions in the
minds of several on board, for the lawless character of their pilot had
been more than suspected in the course of their short acquaintance, and
the coast towards which they were furiously rushing known to be
iron-bound, and, in such a gale fatal to all who came rudely upon its
rocks. Half-an-hour removed their apprehensions. When near enough to the
mountains to feel their deadening influence on the gale, the natural
effect of the eddies, formed by their resistance to the currents, he
luffed-to and set his main-sail. Relieved by this wise precaution, the
Winkelried now wore her canvass gallantly, and she dashed along the shore
of Savoy with a foaming beak, shooting past ravine, valley, glen, and
hamlet, as if sailing in air.

In less than an hour, St. Gingoulph, or the village through which the
dividing line between the territories of Switzerland and those of the King
of Sardinia passes, was abeam, and the excellent calculations of the
sagacious Maso became still more apparent. He had foreseen another shift
of wind, as the consequence of all this poise and counterpoise, and he was
here met by the true br