"I think, O'Grady," Captain O'Driscol said, two days later, "we are going
to have our opportunity, for unless I am mistaken there is going to be a
change of weather. Those clouds banking up ahead look like a gale from the
southwest."
Before night the wind was blowing furiously, and the _Sea-horse__ taking
green sea over her bows and wallowing gunwale under in the waves. At
daylight, when they went on deck, gray masses of cloud were hurrying
overhead and an angry sea alone met the eye. Not a sail was in sight, and
the whole convoy had vanished.
"We are out of sight of the fleet, O'Grady," Captain O'Driscol said,
grimly.
"I felt sure we should be," O'Grady said, triumphantly. "Sorra one of them
could keep foot with us."
"They are ahead of us, man," O'Driscol said, angrily; "miles and miles
ahead."
"Ahead, is it? You must know better, O'Driscol; though it is little enough
you know of ships. You see we are close-hauled, and there is no doubt that
that is the vessel's strong point. Why, we have dropped the rest of them
like hot potatoes, and if this little breeze keeps on, maybe we shall be
in the Tagus days and days before them."
O'Driscol was too exasperated to argue.
"O'Driscol is a good fellow," O'Grady said, turning to Terence, "but it is
a misfortune that he is so prejudiced. Now, what is your own opinion?"
"I have no opinion about it, Captain O'Grady.
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