"
"In that case," said Willis, "let us hoist the anchor and be off
home."
"Home! but we are determined to have the skins first."
"No, you are not," said Willis; "I know you better than you know
yourselves. You are both brave fellows, but I know you would not, for
all the skins in the world, have your good mother suppose that you
were buffeted about by the waves in a storm."
"True; up with the anchor, Willis," said Fritz.
"Be it so," said Jack, shaking his fist menacingly at the silent
forest, "but we shall lose nothing by waiting."
The sailor had not erred in his calculations, for they had scarcely
unfurled the sail before they heard the distant rumbling of the storm.
As soon as the first flash of lightning shot across the sky, Jack put
his forefinger of one hand on the wrist of the other, and began
counting one--two--three.
"Do you feel feverish?" inquired Willis.
"No, not personally," replied Jack; "I am feeling the pulse of the
storm--twenty-four--twenty-five--twenty-six--it is a mile off."
"Aye! how do you make that out?"
"Very easily; you recollect Ernest telling us that light travelled so
rapidly, that the time it occupied in passing from one point to
another of the earth's surface was scarcely perceptible to our
senses?"
"Yes, but I thought he was spinning a yarn at the time.
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