ed, and the schooner, with as much
canvas as she could bear, was tearing through the fast rising seas. We
stood on, still nearing the reef. Old Tom went to the helm. The wind
increasing, the vessel heeled over before it, but it would not do to
shorten sail. The men were at their stations.

"We'll go about, Platt, and see if she'll do better on the other tack,"
said Harry. "Helm's a lee!" About she came, but scarcely had she
gathered way when a more furious blast than before laid her over. I
looked aloft--the top masts were bending like willow wands. I feared
every instant that they would go, but it was not a moment to shorten
sail. Presently the wind headed us, and we had once more to go about.
We now stood on almost parallel with the reef, Tom watching for every
slight variation of the wind to edge the schooner off it. All this
time, though the current no longer carried us towards the reef, the
heavy swell rolling in threatened to set us on it. Night was
approaching. It would add greatly to the danger of our position. The
ladies had hitherto remained on deck, fully aware of our peril, but
showing no signs of fear. Harry, who from the moment the gale sprang up
had stood holding on to the weather backstay, now watching the canvas,
now the fast rising seas, urged them and Nat to go below.

"I will summon you, if necessary," he said, in a calm tone. "But we
will hope for the best. Remain in the cabin, and keep your cloaks and
hats ready to put on."

They went without remonstrance. I helped them down the
companion-ladder.

"Is there much danger, do you think, Ned?" asked Mary. "Harry seems
unusually grave."

"We must, as he says, hope for the best," I answered, though I myself
knew that the danger was imminent. Should a spar go or the gale
increase, there would be but scant time, before the schooner would be
among the breakers, to get into the boats; and even should we escape in
them, would they live in that stormy sea? I saw Mary and Fanny kneel
down at the sofa as I left the cabin, and Mary drawing Nat to her side.

"Their prayers will help us," I thought, as I sprang on deck.

The wind was increasing, the foam-topped seas rolled in quick succession
towards us, the sky to windward looked threatening in the extreme; that
terrible wall of foam loomed higher through the gloom of night. Still,
as long as the schooner's head could be kept turned away from the reef,
we might hope to claw off from it