and when
dusk closed over the storm-swept ocean the ship was headed for a
sheltered stretch of water close inshore.

Every stay and shroud whistled its own tune as the gale roared past.
Foam-crested waves hurled themselves in a white fury against the
plunging, dripping sides, piling up on the port bow and racing aft in
cataracts of water which threatened instant death to any luckless sailor
caught in their embrace. The lashings on the movable furniture of the
decks, although of stout rope, were snapped like spun-yarn, and
much-prized, newly painted ventilators, boat-covers, fenders, deck-rails
and other necessary adornments were swept overboard by the ugly rushes
of green sea. The iron superstructure and bridge-supports resounded to
the heavy blows of the water, and the ship trembled as she rose after
each ghastly plunge.

The blasts of wind which struck the vessel with increasing violence had
swept unimpeded over 5000 miles of ocean and carried in their breath
the edge of the Arctic frost. The sleet felt warm compared with it, and
the flying spray lost its sting.

The forty-eight sea miles lying between the ship and the sheltered
strait seemed endless leagues, for the speed had to be considerably
reduced to avoid serious damage from Neptune's guns. The minutes of
twilight grew rapidly less, and with the coming of darkness a new danger
threatened. The ship was approaching a rock-strewn coast with no
friendly lights to guide her, and every now and then lofty masses of
black stone rose up, dimly, from their beds of foam. It was an anxious
half-hour, and ears were strained for the warning thunder from
surf-beaten rocks which sounded at intervals even above the roar of the
gale.

Fortunately the entrance to the sheltered waterway was broad, and almost
before it could be realised the sea grew calm. Although the wind still
shrieked and moaned, the waves rose barely three feet high. Great
cliffs, invisible in the darkness and driving sleet, protected the
strait, and as the vessel picked her way to a safe anchorage closer
under the lee of the land the wind lost its giant strength and the
howling receded into the upper air.

Throughout the night the comparatively small warship rode safely at
anchor, innocent of what was taking place out in the blackness and the
storm. When morning broke the gale had lost some of its force, and
streams of pale watery sunlight shone between the low-flying clouds on
to a boisterous sea.