Here it was calm, so the run was soon made. The boat handled well
enough, all things considered; nevertheless, to O'Reilly, her
navigator, it was an anxious hour. Not only was he forced to keep
a sharp lookout for blockading gunboats, but he feared he was
doing wrong in committing his precious freight to the
uncertainties of the Atlantic. Even had he been alone, with a crew
of able sailors under him, this voyage would have daunted him, for
it was without doubt the wildest adventure in which he had ever
participated. When he hinted at these fears and put the matter
before his companions for a final test, Branch refused to speak,
but Esteban and the girls were earnestly in favor of pushing on.
Jacket, of course, loudly seconded them.
At sunset they entered a pass and ran between low mangrove banks.
The tide was ebbing and it hurried them through and out into the
open sea, where they felt the lift of the mighty ocean swell. Over
these slow undulations the sailboat plowed, heading toward the
empty northern horizon, with the kindling Pole Star as a beacon.
The sky was clear, the sea was gently roughened by the night
breeze, the constellations grew bright and appeared to hang low.
When the coast-line of Cuba had become a blur astern Rosa crept
back and seated herself beside her husband.
"I breathe freely for the first time since that day when Don Mario
came to offer me marriage," she told him.
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