THE FREEDOM OF THE SEAS
ten minutes before that he had fancied that the wind, which had moderated earlier, was becoming fiercer again. Once a sudden hurricane gust sent him lurching against the pipe rail, tearing his feet from under him in its fury and leaving him clutching desperately at a davit. The onslaught had been so unexpected that it left him gasping for breath. After that he dung with gloved hands to the rail.
A quarter of an hour later he was no longer in doubt as to the behavior of the wind. It had swung a few points further north and had redoubled its fury. The Gyendotte heeled under its assault until Nelson was flattened against the rail. Its voice was a roar between the funnels and a demoniacal shriek in the rigging. Far above him the wireless aerial whistled shrilly. The wind was a blast from the icy reaches of the Greenland Sea and his clutching fingers inside the wet gloves stiffened and numbed. He was heartily glad that his relief would come soon and that he could tuck himself in his hammock, even though it seemed doubtful that sleep would come to many that night. The little cruiser was taking it hard, and no mistake. Steps hurried along the deck in the darkness behind him and off the starboard bow signals flashed. It was the flagship's
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