o shorten our courses and turn her head, when
the tempest struck us from the south-west, lashing up the sea at our
stern, and making our cranky masts stoop forward and creak like things
in mortal pain.

The carpenter's face grew longer than ever.

"For mercy's sake, captain," said he, "keep her in the wind, or she'll
crack to pieces. You can't afford to take a point. We're only sound
under calm water-line; above it, she's as thirsty as a sieve."

"More shame to you," growled Captain Keogh. "We're all thirsty here."

"You'll have water enough presently," muttered the carpenter to himself
as he went below.

"Gallagher, you and your brother take the helm. Keep her out a taste,
whatever yonder fool says. My! she's spinning along for once in a way.
At this rate we shall make Achill by night."

"Better try for Galway, sir," said I.

"Hold your tongue, you French fool," cried the captain, who was greatly
excited. "Save your advice till it's asked, or go aloft.--I tell you,"
said he, turning to Tim, "it's Sligo or nowhere. There's not a cruiser
there to interfere with us, or an exciseman that we can't square. I
reckon there's profit enough in this lace to pay an admiral's prize-
money. Galway! You might as well try to land at London Bridge."

Here the carpenter once more rushed on deck. He looked up at the
canvas, then at the compass, then at the helm.

"I declare, after what I told you, you're two points out of the wind,
sir. The ship won't stand it, I tell you. She's leaking already. You
need all that canvas down, and only your jibs and foresails; and even
then you must let her run."

Captain Keogh turned upon him with a torrent of abuse.

"Saints help us! Am I the captain of this ship, or are you, you long-
jawed, squint-eyed, whining son of a wood-chopper you? First it's a
French stowaway wants to tell me my business, then it's you. Why
doesn't the cabin-boy come up and take charge of the ship? Way there
take in the courses, and let the helm go. Give the fool what he wants,
and give me a dram for luck."

All that day we flew through the water in front of as fierce a south-
wester as I was ever out in. The carpenter reported that the pumps were
holding their own and no more, but that a dozen cross-seas would split
us open like rotten medlar. When night fell, the weather promised to
grow worse, and the rain and hail at our backs made it almost impossible
to keep up our heads.

"It's all ve