In the inky blackness of the night, amid the blinding rain, it
had been impossible to read anything from the stars. All was uncertain,
save the golden sheen of sunlight in the east.
Desmond's only course was to put the vessel about and steer by the sun.
She must thus come sooner or later in sight of the coast, and then one or
the other of the men on board might recognize a landmark--a hill, a
promontory, a town. The danger was that they might make the coast in the
neighborhood of one of the Pirate's strongholds; but that must be risked.
For the rest of the day there were light variable winds, such as,
according to Fuzl Khan, might be expected at that season of the year. The
northeast monsoon was already overdue. Its coming was usually heralded by
fitful and uncertain winds, varied by such squalls or storms as they had
just experienced.
The sea moderated early in the morning, and became continually smoother
until, as the sun went down, there was scarce a ripple on the surface.
The wind meanwhile had gradually veered to the southwest, and later to
the west, and the grab began to make more headway. But with the fall of
night it dropped to a dead calm, a circumstance from which the Gujarati
inferred that they were still a long way from the coast. When the stars
appeared, however, and Desmond was able to get a better idea of the
course to set, a slight breeze sprang up again from the west, and the
grab crept along at a speed of perhaps four knots.
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