Still, from his knowledge of those latitudes, cherishing hopes of abreeze, and a fair and fresh one, at any moment, Captain Delano, despitepresent prospects, buoyantly counted upon bringing the San Dominicksafely to anchor ere night. The distance swept over was nothing; since,with a good wind, ten minutes' sailing would retrace more than sixtyminutes, drifting. Meantime, one moment turning to mark "Rover" fightingthe tide-rip, and the next to see Don Benito approaching, he continuedwalking the poop.
Gradually he felt a vexation arising from the delay of his boat; thissoon merged into uneasiness; and at last—his eye falling continually,as from a stage-box into the pit, upon the strange crowd before andbelow him, and, by-and-by, recognizing there the face—now composed toindifference—of the
