CHAPTER IX.
THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD More than a week went by, in which the ill-luck that had hitherto pursued the Covenant upon this voyage grew yet more strongly marked.
Some days she made a little way; others, she was driven actually back.
At last we were beaten so far to the south that we tossed and tacked to and fro the whole of the ninth day, within sight of Cape Wrath and the wild, rocky coast on either hand of it.

There followed on that a council of the officers, and some decision which I did not rightly understand, seeing only the result: that we had made a fair wind of a foul one and were running south.
The tenth afternoon there was a falling swell and a thick, wet, white fog that hid one end of the brig from the other.

All afternoon, when I went on deck, I saw men and officers listening hard over the bulwarks--"for breakers," they said; and though I did not so much as understand the word, I felt danger in the air, and was excited.
Maybe about ten at night, I was serving Mr.Riach and the captain at their supper, when the ship struck something with a great sound, and we heard voices singing out.

My two masters leaped to their feet.
"She's struck!" said Mr.Riach.
"No, sir," said the captain.

"We've only run a boat down." And they hurried out.
The captain was in the right of it.