ship in a condition to struggle against the violent storm, he could not
order that wind to moderate, those waves to be still, that sky to
become serene again. On board, if he was "master after God," outside
the ship, God alone commanded the winds and the waves.

* * * * *




CHAPTER XIII.

LAND! LAND!


Meanwhile, that confidence with which Dick Sand's heart filled
instinctively, was going to be partly justified.

The next day, March 27th, the column of mercury rose in the
barometrical tube. The oscillation was neither sudden nor
considerable--a few lines only--but the progression seemed likely to
continue. The tempest was evidently going to enter its decreasing
period, and, if the sea did remain excessively rough, they could tell
that the wind was going down, veering slightly to the west.

Dick Sand could not yet think of using any sail. The smallest sail
would be carried away. However, he hoped that twenty-four hours would
not elapse before it would be possible for him to rig a storm-jib.

During the night, in fact, the wind went down quite noticeably, if they