It was some minutes before we could recollect ourselves and ascertain the cause of the hubbub.

It proved to be the roaring of the wind, the pattering of the rain, and the angry dash of the waves.
While we slept a severe squall had been gradually concocted among the mountains, and now burst upon us in all its fury.

How long the wind had been blowing we did not know; but we did know we were some miles out to sea in a cockle-shell of a boat, and rapidly drifting farther from the land.

No lights could be seen in any quarter; but all around was dark and drear.

We supposed that as a matter of course the wind blew from the land, and therefore got out our oars and pulled dead to windward, thus preventing further drift, and lessening our danger by laying the boat head to the sea, which was now rapidly rising.
The squall continued for an hour after we were conscious of its existence; we were thoroughly drenched, but exercise kept us warm; while Bohun still maintained his snug position beneath the stern seats in a happy state of unconsciousness of the jarring of the elements and the peril to which he was exposed.