What a hot day this has been--not a cat's-paw on
the water, and the sky all of a mist. Only look at the sun, how he goes
down, puffed out to three times his size, as if he were in a terrible
passion. I suspect we shall have the land breeze off strong."
In half an hour I shoved off with the boats. It was now quite dark, and
I pulled towards the harbour of St Pierre. The heat was excessive and
unaccountable; not the slightest breath of wind moved in the heavens or
below; no clouds to be seen, and the stars were obscured by a sort of
mist: there appeared a total stagnation in the elements. The men in the
boats pulled off their jackets, for, after a few moments' pulling, they
could bear them no longer. As we pulled in, the atmosphere became more
opaque, and the darkness more intense. We supposed ourselves to be at
the mouth of the harbour, but could see nothing--not three yards ahead
of the boat. Swinburne, who always went with me, was steering the boat,
and I observed to him the unusual appearance of the night.
"I've been watching it, sir," replied Swinburne, "and I tell you, Mr
Simple, that if we only know how to find the brig, that I would advise
you to get on board of her immediately. She'll want all her hands this
night, or I'm much mistaken."
"Why do you say so?" replied I.
"Because I think, nay, I may say that I'm sartin, we'll have a hurricane
afore morning. It's not the first time I've cruised in these latitudes.
I recollect in '94--"
But I interrupted him: "Swinburne, I believe that you are right.
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