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Chapter 7

           Hehoistedthebigsail;abreathofwindfannedDecoud’scheek.EverythinghadvanishedbutthelightofthelanternCaptainMitchellhadhoisteduponthepostattheendofthejettytoguideNostromooutoftheharbour.

           Thetwomen,unabletoseeeachother,keptsilenttillthelighter,slippingbeforethefitfulbreeze,passedoutbetweenalmostinvisibleheadlandsintothestilldeeperdarknessofthegulf.Foratimethelanternonthejettyshoneafterthem.Thewindfailed,thenfannedupagain,butsofaintlythatthebig,half-deckedboatslippedalongwithnomorenoisethanifshehadbeensuspendedintheair.

           “Weareoutinthegulfnow,”saidthecalmvoiceofNostromo.Amomentafterheadded,“SenorMitchellhasloweredthelight.”

           “Yes,”saidDecoud;“nobodycanfindusnow.”

           Agreatrecrudescenceofobscurityembracedtheboat.Theseainthegulfwasasblackasthecloudsabove.Nostromo,afterstrikingacoupleofmatchestogetaglimpseoftheboat-compasshehadwithhiminthelighter,steeredbythefeelofthewindonhischeek.

           ItwasanewexperienceforDecoud,thismysteriousnessofthegreatwatersspreadoutstrangelysmooth,asiftheirrestlessnesshadbeencrushedbytheweightofthatdensenight.ThePlacidowassleepingprofoundlyunderitsblackponcho.

           Themainthingnowforsuccesswastogetawayfromthecoastandgainthemiddleofthegulfbeforedaybroke.TheIsabelsweresomewhereathand.

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