finding herself
fairly in the Pacific in the course of the next twenty-four hours.

A disconcerting circumstance, however, that rather tended to damp
Leslie's hopes, was the fact that the barometer persistently refused to
rise, although the wind was subsiding so rapidly that it threatened to
dwindle to a calm, and as the evening faded into night the stars grew
dim and finally disappeared. Still, there was nothing that could be
called actually alarming in the aspect of the weather; and as Leslie had
been almost continuously on deck during the entire duration of the
gale--snatching a brief half-hour of rest from time to time as best he
could--and it was now his eight hours in, he decided, after deliberating
the matter until four bells in the first watch had struck, to go below
and turn in until midnight; leaving instructions with the carpenter to
instantly call him in the event of anything occurring to necessitate his
presence on deck.

It seemed to him that he had scarcely laid his head upon his pillow and
closed his eyes ere he was awakened from a profound sleep by a sudden
screaming roar of wind; the brig heeled over to port until she appeared
about to capsize; and as Leslie, dazed for the moment by his sudden
awakening, sprang from his bunk, a loud crash on deck, immediately
succeeded by a lesser one, told a tale of disaster. The brig righted as
the harassed man sprang up the companion ladder, clad only in his
pyjamas, and dashed out on deck to find everything in confusion, the
mainmast gone by the board and hammering viciously at the ship's side,
while a furious banging forward told that the fore-topmast also had
gone, and, with everything attached, was hanging to leeward by its
rigging. Moreover, a howling gale from the _northward_ was sweeping
over the brig and deluging her with showers of cutting spray.

"Where is the carpenter?" was Leslie's first cry as he emerged from the
companion and groped blindly about him in the blackness of the starless
night.

"Here I be, sir," answered Chips, close at hand. "Oh, Mr Leslie,
here's a dreadful business! And I be to blame for it, sir--"

"Never mind, just now, who is to blame," exclaimed Leslie. "Call all
hands, and let them get to work with their tomahawks upon that main
rigging. Cut everything away, Chips, and be smart about it, my man, or
we shall have the mast punching a hole in the ship's side, and there
will be an end of us all."

And so saying, without