ing along rapidly with the wind, stopped suddenly, with a violent
shock, and began to settle, The sea rose over my ankles and almost
instinctively I clutched at the nearest rope. All at once, when it
seemed all over, the ship ceased to sink, and hung motionless in
mid-ocean.

CHAPTER XXV.

NIGHT OF DECEMBER 4th.--Curtis caught young Letourneur again in his
arms, and running with him across the flooded deck deposited him safely
in the starboard shrouds, whither his father and I climbed up beside
him.

I now had time to look about me. The night was not very dark, and I
could see that Curtis had returned to his post upon the poop; whilst in
the extreme aft near the taffrail, which was still above water, I could
distinguish the forms of Mr. and Mrs. Kear, Miss Herbey, and Mr. Falsten
The lieutenant and the boatswain were on the far end of the forecastle;
the remainder of the crew in the shrouds and top-masts.

By the assistance of his father, who carefully guided his feet up the
rigging, Andre was hoisted into the main-top. Mrs. Kear could not be
induced to join him in his elevated position, in spite of being
told that if the wind were to freshen she would inevitably be
washed overboard by the waves; nothing could induce her to listen to
remonstrance, and she insisted upon remaining on the poop, Miss Herbey,
of course, staying by her side.

As soon as the captain saw the "Chancellor" was no longer sinking,
he set to work to take down all the sails, yards and all, and the
top-gallants, in the hope that by removing everything that could
compromise the equilibrium of the ship he might diminish the chance of
her capsizing altogether.

"But may she not founder at any moment?" I said to Curtis, when I had
joined him for a while upon the poop.

"Everything depends upon the weather," he replied, in his calmest
manner; "that, of course, may change at any hour. One thing, however, is
certain, the 'Chancellor' preserves her equilibrium for the present."

"But do you mean to say," I further asked, "that she can sail with two
feet of water over her deck?"

"No, Mr. Kazallon, she can't sail, but she can drift with the wind, and
if the wind remains in its present quarter, in the course of a few days
we might possibly sight the coast. Besides, we shall have our raft as a
last resource; in a few hours it will be ready, and at daybreak we can
embark."

"You have not then," I added, "abandoned all hope even yet?" I marvelled