Читать книгу A Lad of Mettle онлайн

47 страница из 64

‘I hope not,’ said Mrs. Jessop.

Captain Manton often paid a visit to the Jessops when in Sydney, and the pilot and his wife were very fond of his company.

As the evening wore on the storm raged in all its fury. Every hour seemed to add to the velocity of the gale. A great roar like distant thunder could be heard in the cottage as the waves dashed against the mighty rocks of South Head, and then rushed back, baffled and angry.

‘It’s beginning to rain,’ said Wal Jessop; ‘I’ll just see if the pony’s all right before it comes on faster.’

‘Be quick in again,’ said his wife, ‘or you’ll be drenched.’

A fierce gust came in as he opened the door and quickly shut it again.

‘It doesn’t rain after all,’ he said, as he looked up at the dark clouds through which the moon occasionally shone in fitful gleams.

As if to convince him he had made a mistake, and that his first surmise was correct, a shower of heavy drops fell upon him. He stood still and thought for a moment; then he touched the wet on his coat and tasted it. It was salt, and he knew the waves outside were running high and dashing showers of salt spray over the top of the rocks, and the wind carried it across the village.