Then the "Pilgrim" was still two thousand miles from the coast.
However, under the impetus of that wind which blew like thunder, it
must, in less than ten days, reach some point of the coast of South
America.

But could they not hope, as the novice had said, that the weather would
become more manageable, and that it would be possible to set some sail,
when they should make the land?

It was still Dick Sand's hope. He said to himself that this hurricane,
which had lasted so many days, would end perhaps by "killing itself."
And now that, thanks to the appearance of the Isle of Paques, he knew
exactly his position, he had reason to believe that, once master of his
vessel again, he would know how to lead her to a safe place.

Yes! to have had knowledge of that isolated point in the middle of the
sea, as by a providential favor, that had restored confidence to Dick
Sand; if he was going all the time at the caprice of a hurricane, which
he could not subdue, at least, he was no longer going quite blindfold.

Besides, the "Pilgrim," well-built and rigged, had suffered little
during those rude attacks of the tempest. Her damages reduced
themselves to the loss of the top-sail and the foretop-mast
stay-sail--a loss which it would be easy to repair. Not a drop of water
had penetrated through the well-stanched seams of the hull and the
deck. The pumps were perfectly free. In this respect there was nothing
to fear.

There was, then, this interminable hurricane, whose fury nothing seemed
able to moderate. If, in a certain measure, Dick Sand could put his