together on the poop, standing in a group
somewhat apart from the skipper and the mate, awaiting pale and silent
the _denouement_. Bob, who had been aloft helping to stow the mizen
canvas, stepped up to them as he swung himself out of the rigging, and,
addressing himself more particularly to Violet and Blanche, recommended
them to go below at once.

"These warnings," said he, "are not for nothing. The precautions which
Captain Staunton has taken show clearly enough that he expects something
quite out of the common; and the change is likely enough to come upon us
suddenly, bringing perhaps some of our top-hamper about our ears; so, if
you ladies will be advised, I would recommend you to go below where you
will certainly be in much less danger."

Blanche and Violet looked at each other inquiringly. "_I_ shall remain
here," said Violet, unconsciously tightening her hold upon Rex
Fortescue's arm as she spoke. "Whatever happens, I would very much
rather be here, where I can see the full extent of the danger, than pent
up in a cabin picturing to myself I know not what horrors."

Blanche expressed the same determination; but Mr Dale hurried at once
to the companion, loudly lamenting that he had ever intrusted his
precious self to the `beastly treacherous sea!'

His remarks attracted Captain Staunton's attention to the party; and he
at once stepped hurriedly toward them exclaiming, "Good heavens, ladies
and gentlemen! let me beg you to go below at once; I had no idea you
were here. The saloon is the safest place for you all at a time like
this; you will be out of harm's way there, while here--"

"Look out!" shouted Mr Bowles. "Here it comes with a vengeance. Take
care of yourselves, everybody."

The gloom had visibly deepened, until it became difficult for those
grouped together on the poop to distinguish each other's features, and a
low deep humming sound was now audible, which increased in volume with
startling rapidity.

"Go below all of you, I beg," repeated Captain Staunton in anxious
tones, "and be as quick as you can about it, please. What is the
matter, Mr Dale?" as that individual stood a few steps down the
staircase, grasping the handrail on each side, neither descending
himself nor allowing anyone else to do so.

"My book," exclaimed Dale; "I left a book on one of the hen-coops,
and--"

His further remarks were drowned in the deafening din of the tempest,
which at this moment swooped down upon the