Rows of breakers opening their strong teeth for the ship might stretch between, but better the breakers than the slaver's deck and the man hunt in the slimy African lagoons.

For him the icy wind was the breath of life, and he soon ceased to shiver.

But he became conscious of chattering teeth near him and he saw Miguel, his face a reproduction of terror in all its aspects.
"We go!" shouted the Portuguese.

"The storm drive the ship on the breakers and she break to pieces, and all of us lost!" Robert's fantastic spirit was again strong upon him.
"Then let us go!" he shouted back.

"Better this clean, cold coast than the fever swamps of Africa! Hold fast, Miguel, and we'll ride in together!" The superstitious awe of the Portuguese deepened, and he drew away from Robert.