astrophe. At sight of a sea far larger than its fellows, he
crouched down, releasing his hands from the spokes. The Francis Spaight
sheered as her stern lifted on the sea, receiving the full fling of the
cap on her quarter. The next instant she was in the trough, her lee-rail
buried till the ocean was level with her hatch-coamings, sea after sea
breaking over her weather rail and sweeping what remained exposed of the
deck with icy deluges.

The men were out of hand, helpless and hopeless, stupid in their
bewilderment and fear, and resolute only in that they would not obey
orders. Some wailed, others clung silently in the weather shrouds, and
still others muttered prayers or shrieked vile imprecations; and neither
captain nor mate could get them to bear a hand at the pumps or at
setting patches of sails to bring the vessel up to the wind and sea.
Inside the hour the ship was over on her beam ends, the lubberly cowards
climbing up her side and hanging on in the rigging. When she went over,
the mate was caught and drowned in the after-cabin, as were two sailors
who had sought refuge in the forecastle.

The mate had been the ablest man on board, and the captain was now
scarcely less helpless than his men. Beyond cursing them for their
worthlessness, he did nothing; and it remained for a man named Mahoney,
a Belfast man, and a boy, O'Brien, of Limerick, to cut away the fore and
main masts. This they did at great risk on the perpendicular wall of the
wreck, sending the mizzentopmast overside along in the general crash.
The Francis Spaight righted, and it was well that she was lumber
laden, else she would have sunk, for she was already water-logged.
The mainmast, still fast by the shrouds, beat like a thunderous
sledge-hammer against the ship's side, every stroke bringing groans from
the men.

Day dawned on the savage ocean, and in the cold gray light all that
could be seen of the Francis Spaight emerging from the sea were the
poop, the shattered mizzenmast, and a ragged line of bulwarks. It was
midwinter in the North Atlantic, and the wretched men were half-dead
from cold. But there was no place where they could find rest. Every sea
breached clean over the wreck, washing away the salt incrustations from
their bodies and depositing fresh incrustations. The cabin under the
poop was awash to the knees, but here at least was shelter from the
chill wind, and here the survivors congregated, standing upright,
holding on by the ca