Not many passengers were venturing onto the open deck; and those who did were wrapped high and close, with hardly more than their eyes showing out.  “If he comes on us he will come like that—­coat collar to his ears and hat over his eyes,” she thought as one after another so wrapped appeared and passed; and almost with the thought, catching sight of a lurking man’s figure in the passageway between the paddle-box and the outside row of state-rooms, she added aloud:  “Let us go up on the top deck.”

“It will be pretty cold and rough for you up there,” suggested Jan.

“Never mind; let us go there.”  A man could not very well hide on the more open top deck, was what she had in mind.

They could hardly keep their feet on the top deck.  An officer in passing warned them sharply to be careful.  She looked after him scornfully.  “As if you weren’t more at home on the sea than any of them!” she said proudly.

The wind on the top deck was blowing a gale.  The snow was pouring down.  Another officer bumped into them.  “This is no place for passengers!” he yelled.  “Better go below and inside the house!” And he hurried on.

“Excited, ain’t he?” said Jan.  “But maybe we better go below too.  But let’s go round by the lee side—­this way.”

In passing the pilot-house a window above them was thrown open and a man’s face thrust through, and a man’s voice said: 

“We’ll never make Port Rock to-night, not against this gale and snow.  And no use trying to see anything ahead.”

Jan peered up through the dark and the snow to see who it might be.  Against the light in the pilot-house he could distinguish the head and shoulders of the captain.

“Then we’d better put in somewhere for the night, hadn’t we?” Jan knew that for the mate’s voice.

“Put in where?”

“I don’t know—­Gloucester, maybe?”

“Gloucester?  And how does Gloucester bear now?—­tell me that.  And how does any port bear now?—­tell me that, too.  Suppose we did know, would you try to take her into Gloucester harbor on a night like this?  Gloucester!”

“Sh-h!  There’s something,” said the other voice.

The voices were hushed.  Two long moans came over the sea.

“Wait for them again.  And time ’em.”  The captain’s voice that.

Mrs. Goles stepped closer to Jan.  “Does it mean there’s danger to the ship?” she asked in a low voice in Jan’s ear.

“No, no.  But listen!”

One long moan and one short moan came fitfully over the sea.

“Thatcher’s Island steam-whistle,” said the captain’s voice.  “An’ bearing so.”  So thick was the night with snow that Jan had to strain his sight to make out the mittened hand and coatsleeve stretching out through the window over his head.

Jan felt the wind whipping him on the other side, and with that there came from the pilot-house:  “Well, if that ain’t the devil’s own luck!  Here’s the wind makin’ into the north-west and the chief whistlin’ up half-steam’s all he can keep on her!”