Louis was evidently not the stuff of which martyrs are made.
There was a small tell-tale compass fastened to a beam over the table.
I unscrewed this without difficulty, and dropped it into my pocket. It
would be a dark night with that cloud shutting out the sky, with
probably not a shore light visible. Then I climbed the companion
stairs to take a survey of the deck. As the cabin lights had none of
them been lit, I could stand in the shadow of the hood without fear of
being seen, and my eyes, accustomed to the slow approach of darkness,
could see fairly well. No attempt had been made to spread sail,
although doubtless a closely reefed jib helped to steady the vessel,
which was advancing steadily under medium engine power. Quietness, and
secrecy was clearly the aim sought, for the stacks discharged only a
faint haze of smoke, instantly disappearing into the cloud mass above,
while the sound of the revolving screws was scarcely discernible.
Nevertheless we were slipping through the water at fair rate of speed,
leaving a very perceptible wake astern. Judging from our present
progress the _Sea Gull_ would prove herself a clipper once under full
steam. The open decks glistened with water, although the rainfall was
light and intermittent; thunder rumbled to the northward, with
occasional flashes of lightning.
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