a rag of sail; so, it is utterly impossible to lay to and brave it
out."

"Quite so, sir," responded the other. "All we can do is to carry on and
trust to running out of it into calm weather. We ought to have made a
long stretch to the southwards by now."

"So we have, Jackson," said Captain Miles. "We're now, I fancy, pretty
well back where we lay so long in the calm, although perhaps a trifle
more to the eastwards; but, if we run on much further, I'm sure I don't
know where we'll bring up!"

There the conversation ended and I went off to sleep soon afterwards,
although the creaking of the timbers and roar of the sea sounded
terrific, making noise enough to drown the sound of everything else. I
couldn't hear a footstep on the deck above me--all was hushed but the
terrible turmoil of the elements.

I got up about six o'clock. I knew the hour by striking a match and
looking at a little watch my father had given me just before I left
home; for, it was all dark in the cabin, the ports and scuttles being
closed and the dead-lights in the stern being up, while the doors in the
bulkheads were drawn to, so as to keep out the sea from rushing in when
a wave came over the forecastle.

Opening one of the sliding panels with some difficulty and pushing it
back far enough for my body to get through, I emerged on the main-deck,
thence managed to scramble on the poop, where the captain and Mr
Marline were standing as well as Jackson, all holding on to the rigging.
None of the officers had turned in all night, but I noticed that none
of the hands were visible except the men at the helm, the captain
allowing the rest to keep snug in the forecastle until they were wanted,
for heavy seas were washing over the rails every now and then or coming
in from the bows and sweeping the ship fore and aft, so there was no use
in exposing the men unnecessarily when there was nothing really for them
to do, as was the case now--no sail being set and only the wheel having
to be attended to.

Ahead, astern, to the right hand and to the left, the sea was nothing
but a mass of foam, while the air was thick with flying scud that was
chopped off the heads of the great rolling waves every instant and
whirled to leeward by the wind. This seemed sometimes actually to beat
down the water and make it level with its tremendous strength, the
billows springing up, after each gust, like india-rubber balls that had
been pressed flat and then suddenly rel