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 the hour should come, he
would be obliged to adopt some plan. Well, Dick Sand adopted one.

During the thirteen days which elapsed, from the 24th of February to
the 9th of March, the state of the atmosphere did not change in any
perceptible manner. The sky was always loaded with heavy fogs. For a
few hours the wind went down, then it began to blow again with the same
force. Two or three times the barometer rose again, but its
oscillation, comprising a dozen lines, was too sudden to announce a
change of weather and a return of more manageable winds. Besides the
barometrical column fell again almost immediately, and nothing could
inspire any hope of the end of that bad weather within a short period.

Terrible storms burst forth also, which very seriously disturbed Dick
Sand. Two or three times the lightning struck the waves only a few
cable-lengths from the ship. Then the rain fell in torrents, and made
those whirlpools of half condensed vapors, which surrounded the