CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
HOW WE CAME INTO CALM WATER AFTER ALL.
Ludar's forecast was destined to a swift and sudden fulfilment.

The red glare was scarcely out of the west when the wind began to howl and whistle through our rigging with a presage of the tempest that was to come.

What was of worse omen still, the long streamer on the main-mast, which hitherto had spread due eastward, now suddenly flapped to south- east, showing that the gale was coming upon us from the one quarter we had most cause to dread, namely, the north-west.
For, as Ludar well knew by this time, unless we could keep the _Gerona's_ head out so as to clear the far Antrim Headlands of Bengore and Benmore, we ran the peril of being driven in on an iron-bound shore, which had short shrift and little mercy for such as fell upon it.
The danger soon became manifest to others beside Ludar, and once again the oars were ordered out and the ship's head put across the wind.
Ludar and I were among the party of cursing and mutinous rowers whose turn it was to be relieved, and we were about to crawl below for a snatch of repose, when a messenger came from Don Alonzo bidding Ludar attend him.
"Come with me," said Ludar, and we followed the man.
Don Alonzo, who, from the moment he could stand upright, had resumed his post of command, stood in his cabin, pale and stern, surrounded by his officers, who, by their uneasy study of the charts before them, were plainly alive to the peril that threatened the ship.
"Sir Ludar," said he, "your presence on board is not without a fortunate meaning for us.

The account betwixt us runs high already.

I have no means to pay you, but by demanding a further service at your hands.