Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн

21 страница из 86

"You can wear ship now, Mr. Hubbard," said Peabody. "Course sou'-west by south."

"Sou'-west by south, sir," echoed Hubbard.

"And take those men out of the chains. We won't need the lead again."

"Aye aye, sir."

"See that they have something hot to drink."

"Aye aye, sir."

The wind had moderated as it veered, but now that they were in the open sea they were encountering the full force of the waves. Close hauled, the Delaware had been climbing wave after wave, heeling over to them, soaring upward with her bowsprit pointing at the sky, and then, as she reached the crest, rolling into the wind with her stern heaving upwards in a mad corkscrew roll with the spray bursting over her deck. Now she came round before the wind, and her motion changed. There was not so much feeling of battling with gigantic forces; much more was there an uneasy sensation of yielding to them. The following sea threw her about as if she had no will of her own. Standing by the wheel, Hubbard was conscious of a feeling of relief from the penetrating torture of the wind--so, undoubtedly, were the men at the wheel--but the feeling was counteracted by a sensation of uneasiness as the Delaware lurched along before the big grey-bearded waves which came sweeping after her. There was an even chance of her being pooped--Hubbard could tell, by the feel of the deck under his feet, how each of those grey mountains in its turn blanketed the close-reefed topsails, and robbed the ship of a trifle of her way. He could tell it, too, by the way the quartermasters had to saw back and forth at the wheel to meet the Delaware's unhappy falling off as each wave passed under her counter. If she once broached-to, then good-bye, to the Delaware.