This calm lasted eight whole days, during which they made but little progress.

At length, when all were weary of staring at the oil-like sea, a wind sprang up that grew gradually to a gale blowing towards Syria, and before it they fled along swiftly.

Worse and stronger grew that gale, till on the evening of the second day, when they seemed in no little danger of being pooped, they saw a great mountain far away, at the sight of which Lozelle thanked God aloud.
"Are those the mountains near Antioch ?" asked Hassan.
"Nay," he answered, "they are more than fifty miles south of them, between Ladikiya and Jebela.

There, by the mercy of Heaven, is a good haven, for I have visited it, where we can lie till this storm is past." "But we are steering for Darbesak, not for a haven near Jebela, which is a Frankish port," answered Hassan, angrily.
"Then put the ship about and steer there yourself," said Lozelle, "and I promise you this, that within two hours every one of you will be dead at the bottom of the sea." Hassan considered.

It was true, for then the waves would strike them broadside on, and they must fill and sink.
"On your head be it," he answered shortly.
The dark fell, and by the light of the great lantern at their prow they saw the white seas hiss past as they drove shorewards beneath bare masts.