What superior weather-sense Captain West possesses I know not, save
that it is his by Samurai right. The sky, as I have said, was clear.
The air was brittle--sparkling gloriously in the windy sun. And yet,
behold, in a brief quarter of an hour, the change that took place. I
had just returned from a trip below, and Miss West was venting her
scorn on the River Plate and promising to go below to the sewing-
machine, when we heard Mr. Pike groan. It was a whimsical groan of
disgust, contrition, and acknowledgment of inferiority before the
master.

"Here comes the whole River Plate," was what he groaned.

Following his gaze to the south-west, we saw it coming. It was a
cloud-mass that blotted out the sunlight and the day. It seemed to
swell and belch and roll over and over on itself as it advanced with
a rapidity that told of enormous wind behind it and in it. Its speed
was headlong, terrific; and, beneath it, covering the sea, advancing
with it, was a gray bank of mist.

Captain West spoke to the mate, who bawled the order along, and the
watch, reinforced by the watch below, began dewing up the mainsail
and foresail and climbing into the rigging.

"Keep off! Put your wheel over! Hard over!" Captain West called
gently to the helmsman.

And the big wheel spun around, and the Elsinore's bow fell off so
that she might not be caught aback by the onslaught of wind.

Thunder rode in that rushing, rolling blackness of cloud; and it was