It was impossible for any inexperienced man, however courageous, to
avoid feelings of awe, almost amounting to dread, in the circumstances,
and Nigel--as he tried to penetrate the darkness around him and glanced
at the narrow craft in which he sat and over the sides of which he could
dip both hands at once into the sea--might be excused for wishing, with
all his heart, that he were safely on shore, or on the deck of his
father's brig. His feelings were by no means relieved when Van der Kemp
said, in a low soliloquising tone--

"The steamers will constitute our chief danger to-night. They come on
with such a rush that it is not easy to make out how they are steering,
so as to get out of their way in time."

"But should we not hear them coming a long way off?" asked Nigel.

"Ay. It is not during a calm like this that we run risk, but when the
gale begins to blow we cannot hear, and shall not, perhaps, see very
well."

As he spoke the hermit lifted the covering of the forehatch and took out
a small sail which he asked Nigel to pass aft to the negro.

"Close-reef it, Moses; we shall make use of the wind as long as
possible. After that we will lay-to."

"All right, massa," said the negro, in the same cheerful free-and-easy
tone in which he was wont to express his willingness to obey orders
whether trifling or important. "Don' forgit Spinkie, massa."