Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн

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The wind was still howling round his ears--it certainly ought to moderate soon, now that the glass had begun to move upward. But there was no sign of it at present. On the contrary--or was he mistaken--those topmasts were whipping badly. He was conscious as he stood that the wind had increased, and he felt in his bones that it was going to increase further. It was natural in a storm like this--he had seen the phenomenon a hundred times. The dying flurries of a storm were often more intense than anything that had preceded it. He felt a sudden wave of bitterness surge up within him. If he had to shorten sail the two-decker would come romping up to him, and the voyage of the Delaware would come to an end. This was his first command, and he had been at sea less than twenty-four hours. The flurry of the gale might last no more than half an hour, and then the wind might die away to a gentle breeze, but that half hour would be enough to do his business for him. God--he was on the point of stupid blasphemy when he mastered himself sternly.