But if the “Pilgrim’s” speed and consequently the way sailed over could no longer be estimated, it was easy to tell that the ship’s headway was not diminishing.

In fact, the next day, March 10th, the barometer fell to twenty-eight and two-tenths inches.  It was the announcement of one of those blasts of wind which travel as much as sixty miles an hour.

It became urgent to change once more the state of the sails, so as not to risk the security of the vessel.

Dick Sand resolved to bring down his top-gallant mast and his fore-staff, and to furl his low sails, so as to sail under his foretop-mast stay-sail and the low reef of his top-sail.

He called Tom and his companions to help him in that difficult operation, which, unfortunately, could not be executed with rapidity.

And meanwhile time pressed, for the tempest already declared itself with violence.

Dick Sands, Austin, Acteon, and Bat climbed into the masting, while Tom remained at the wheel, and Hercules on the deck, so as to slacken the ropes, as soon as he was commanded.

After numerous efforts, the fore-staff and the top-gallant mast were gotten down upon the deck, not without these honest men having a hundred times risked being precipitated into the sea, the rolling shook the masting to such an extent.  Then, the top-sail having been lessened and the foresail furled, the schooner carried only her foretop-mast stay-sail and the low reef of the top-sail.

Even though her sails were then extremely reduced, the “Pilgrim” continued, none the less, to sail with excessive velocity.

The 12th the weather took a still worse appearance.  On that day, at dawn, Dick Sand saw, not without terror, the barometer fall to twenty-seven and nine-tenths inches.  It was a real tempest which was raging, and such that the “Pilgrim” could not carry even the little sail she had left.

Dick Sand, seeing that his top-sail was going to be torn, gave the order to furl.  But it was in vain.  A more violent gust struck the ship at that moment, and tore off the sail.  Austin, who was on the yard of the foretop-sail, was struck by the larboard sheet-rope.  Wounded, but rather slightly, he could climb down again to the deck.

Dick Sand, extremely anxious, had but one thought.  It was that the ship, urged with such fury, was going to be dashed to pieces every moment; for, according to his calculation, the rocks of the coast could not be distant.  He then returned to the prow, but he saw nothing which had the appearance of land, and then, came back to the wheel.

A moment after Negoro came on deck.  There, suddenly, as if in spite of himself, his arm was extended toward a point of the horizon.  One would say that he recognized some high land in the fogs!

Still, once more he smiled wickedly, and without saying anything of what he had been able to see, he returned to his post.