with a resounding whack on the
scuttle butt, threatening to stave in the top of the barrel.

"And how did the fight end?" asked Desmond.

"We drove 'em back bit by bit, and fairly wore 'em down. They weren't all
sailormen, or we couldn't have done it, for they had the numbers; but an
Englishman on his own ship is worth any two furriners--aye, half a dozen
some do say, though I wouldn't go so far as that myself--and at the last
some of them turned tail and bolted back. The ship's boy, what was in the
shrouds, saw 'em on the run and set up a screech: 'Hooray! hooray!' That
was all we wanted. We hoorayed too; and went at 'em in such a slap-bang
go-to-glory way that in a brace of shakes there wasn't a Frenchman, a
Dutchman, nor a Moor on board. They cut the grapnels and floated clear,
and next mornin' we saw 'em on their beam ends on a sandbank a mile down
the river. That's how I fust come across Mr. Diggle; I may be wrong, but
I says it again: look out for squalls."

For some days the wind held fair, and the ship being now in the main
track of the trades, all promised well for a quick run to the Cape. But
suddenly there was a change; a squall struck the vessel from the
southwest. Captain Barker, catching sight of Desmond and a seaman near at
hand, shouted:

"Furl the top-gallant sail, you two. Now show a leg, or, by thunder, the
masts will go by the board."

Springing up the shrouds on the weather side, Desmond was quickest aloft.
He crawled out on the yard, the wind threatening every moment to tear him
from his dizzy, rocking perch, and began with desperate energy to furl
the straining canvas. It was hard work, and but for the development of
his muscles during the past few months, and a naturally cool head, the
task would have been beyond his powers. But setting his teeth and
exerting his utmost strength, he accomplished his share of it as quickly
as the able seaman on the lee yard.

The sail was half furled when all at once the mast swung through a huge
arc; the canvas came with tremendous force against the cross trees, and
Desmond, flung violently outwards, found himself swinging in midair,
clinging desperately to the leech of the sail. With a convulsive movement
he grasped at a loose gasket above him, and catching a grip, wound it
twice or thrice round his arm. The strain was intense; the gasket was
thin and cut deeply into the flesh; he knew that should it give way
nothing could save him. So he hung, the wi