I did notice that he kept his gaze pretty steadily fixed on the overcast, cloud-driven sky.

At last, when it seemed the wind could not possibly blow more fiercely, he found in the sky what he sought.

It was then that I first heard his voice--a sea-voice, clear as a bell, distinct as silver, and of an ineffable sweetness and volume, as it might be the trump of Gabriel.

That voice!--effortless, dominating! The mighty threat of the storm, made articulate by the resistance of the _Elsinore_, shouted in all the stays, bellowed in the shrouds, thrummed the taut ropes against the steel masts, and from the myriad tiny ropes far aloft evoked a devil's chorus of shrill pipings and screechings.

And yet, through this bedlam of noise, came Captain West's voice, as of a spirit visitant, distinct, unrelated, mellow as all music and mighty as an archangel's call to judgment.