ionally touching. This was the more
safe, inasmuch as the sea was perfectly smooth, and the vessel made no
lee-way. Still the frigate looked, as it is termed, barely up to the
point it was deemed indispensable to weather; and as ships rarely "do"
better than they "look," it became a question of serious doubt on board
the Proserpine, as she came up with the headland, whether she
could clear it.

"I am afraid, Captain Cuffe, we shall never clear it with a good-enough
berth, sir," observed the fidgeting Griffin; "it seems to me the ship
sets unaccountably to leeward to-day!"

"She never behaved better, Griffin. I am really in hopes there is a
slight current off-shore here; if anything, we actually open the
highlands of Corsica by this promontory. You see that the wreck of la
Divina Providenza is sweeping round the bay and is coming out to
windward again."

"_That_ may serve us, indeed! All ready in the chains, sir!--shall we
make a cast of the lead?"

Cuffe assented, and the lead was hove. At this moment the ship was going
eight knots, and the man reported no bottom, with fifteen fathoms of
line out. This was well, and two or three subsequent casts confirmed it.
Orders were now given to drag every bowline, swig-off on every brace,
and flatten-in all the sheets. Even the halyards were touched in order
that the sails might stand like boards. The trying moment was near; five
minutes must decide the matter.

"Let her shake a little, Mr. Yelverton, and eat into the wind," said
Cuffe, addressing the officer of the watch; "we must do all we can here;
for when abreast of the breakers everything must be a rap-full to keep
the ship under quick command. There--meet her with the helm, and give
her a good full."

This experiment was repeated twice, and each time the frigate gained her
length to windward, though she necessarily lost more than three times
that distance in her velocity. At length the trial came, and a profound
silence, one in which nervousness and anxiety were blended with hope,
reigned in the vessel. The eyes of all turned from the sails to the
breakers; from the breakers to the sails; and from both to the wake
of the ship.

At such moments the voice of the lead's-man prevails over all other
sounds. His warning cry is listened to with breathless attention when
the songs of a siren would be unheard. Cast after cast was made as the
ship drove on, and the answer to Cuffe's questions was uniformly, "No
bottom, sir,