The sky that had been cloudless for days still remained barren, but the sailor knew what lay beyond the clear-cut rim of the world.

The man of the sea could look far beyond the horizon.

He could see the ugly clouds that were even now speeding down from the north, invisible as yet but soon to creep into view; he could see the mighty billows on the other side of that distant line; he could hear the roar and shriek of the tempest that was still hundreds of miles away.

It was the matter of but a few hours before the wind and the billows would rush up to smite the Doraine with all their might under the cover of a black and storm-rent sky.

And what was to become of the vessel, floundering in the path of the hurricane?
Late afternoon brought the forerunner of the gale, a whistling, howling squall that frantically strove, it would seem, to outrace the baleful clouds.