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- Жюль Верн
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- Стр. 111/354
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A
kind
of
summit
had
just
appeared
in
an
opening
in
the
fog
.
His
sailor
's
eyes
could
not
deceive
him
.
"
At
last
!
"
cried
he
;
"
at
last
!
"
He
clang
feverishly
to
the
netting
.
Mrs.
Weldon
,
sustained
by
Hercules
,
continued
to
watch
that
land
almost
despaired
of
.
The
coast
,
formed
by
that
high
summit
,
rose
at
a
distance
of
ten
miles
to
leeward
.
The
opening
being
completely
made
in
a
breaking
of
the
clouds
,
they
saw
it
again
more
distinctly
.
Doubtless
it
was
some
promontory
of
the
American
continent
.
The
"
Pilgrim
,
"
without
sails
,
was
not
in
a
condition
to
head
toward
it
,
but
it
could
not
fail
to
make
the
land
there
.
That
could
be
only
a
question
of
a
few
hours
.
Now
,
it
was
eight
o'clock
in
the
morning
.
Then
,
very
certainly
,
before
noon
the
"
Pilgrim
"
would
be
near
the
land
.
At
a
sign
from
Dick
Sand
,
Hercules
led
Mrs.
Weldon
aft
again
,
for
she
could
not
bear
up
against
the
violence
of
the
pitching
.
The
novice
remained
forward
for
another
instant
,
then
he
returned
to
the
helm
,
near
old
Tom
.
At
last
,
then
,
he
saw
that
coast
,
so
slowly
made
,
so
ardently
desired
!
but
it
was
now
with
a
feeling
of
terror
.
In
fact
,
in
the
"
Pilgrim
's
"
present
condition
,
that
is
to
say
,
scudding
before
the
tempest
,
land
to
leeward
,
was
shipwreck
with
all
its
terrible
contingencies
.
