burst into a fit of laughter. The Frenchman had not time to get out
before the vessel righted. He now emerged completely, and frantically
seizing his cap, tore it off his head and threw it into the boiling
water. He then joined in hauling on board the wreck of the rigging.

"If we are to save our lives we must forthwith rig a jury-mast, so as to
keep the boat before the gale," observed O'Carroll.

With the aid of a wood-axe we knocked out the stump of the foremast, and
making a fresh heel to the broken spar, managed, in spite of the rolling
of the boat, to slip it into its place. This was done not a moment too
soon. The wind increased so rapidly, and blew with such fearful
violence, that we should have been unable to accomplish the task, though
as yet there was not much sea.

O'Carroll showed that he was a man for an emergency. "This will be more
than a gale," he observed; "it will be a regular hurricane! we may
expect that. But still, if we manage properly, we may save our lives."

Close-reefing the foresail, we got it ready to hoist as a square sail;
the rest of the spars we lashed fore and aft on either side, while we
cut up the mainsail and raised the gunwale a foot or more all round to
help keep out the water. We also, as far as we could, covered in the
after-part of the little craft. While we were thus engaged the boys
were pumping and baling. This task was scarcely accomplished before the
wind had blown us helplessly so far off the land that we became exposed
to the full violence of the sea, which had rapidly risen. The water was
leaping on every side tumultuously--the foam flying in thick masses off
it--each sea, as it rose high above our heads, threatening to overwhelm
us.

We gazed wistfully at the land which we had so unwisely left, but we had
no power of returning there. Our only prospect of passing amidst the
heavy seas now rolling around us was to hoist our sail and scud before
the wind.

O'Carroll now took the helm. "I have had more experience in these seas
than you, young gentlemen, and the slightest want of care may send such
a craft as this to the bottom!" he observed.

Without a word, they set to work to pump and bale. Even Trundle grew
serious. Jacotot every now and then stopped pumping or baling, or
whatever he was about, and pulled his hair, and made a hideous face,
scolded Auguste, telling him to _depechez vites_, and then set to work
himself harder than ever. The English