the low reef of the top-sail.

Even though her sails were then extremely reduced, the "Pilgrim"
continued, none the less, to sail with excessive velocity.

The 12th the weather took a still worse appearance. On that day, at
dawn, Dick Sand saw, not without terror, the barometer fall to
twenty-seven and nine-tenths inches. It was a real tempest which was
raging, and such that the "Pilgrim" could not carry even the little
sail she had left.

Dick Sand, seeing that his top-sail was going to be torn, gave the
order to furl. But it was in vain. A more violent gust struck the ship
at that moment, and tore off the sail. Austin, who was on the yard of
the foretop-sail, was struck by the larboard sheet-rope. Wounded, but
rather slightly, he could climb down again to the deck.

Dick Sand, extremely anxious, had but one thought. It was that the
ship, urged with such fury, was going to be dashed to pieces every
moment; for, according to his calculation, the rocks of the coast could
not be distant. He then returned to the prow, but he saw nothing which
had the appearance of land, and then, came back to the wheel.

A moment after Negoro came on deck. There, suddenly, as if in spite of
himself, his arm was extended toward a point of the horizon. One would
say that he recognized some high land in the fogs!

Still, once more he smiled wickedly, and without saying anything of
what he had been able to see, he returned to his post.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XII.

ON THE HORIZON.

At that date the tempest took its most terrible form, that of the
hurricane. The wind had set in from the southwest. The air moved with a
velocity of ninety miles an hour. It was indeed a hurricane, in fact,
one of those terrible windstorms which wrecks all the ships of a
roadstead, and which, even on land, the most solid structures cannot
resist. Such was the one which, on the 25th of July, 1825, devastated
Guadaloupe. When heavy cannons, carrying balls of twenty-four pounds,
are raised from their carriages, one may imagine what would become of a
ship which has no other point of support than an unsteady sea? And
meanwhile, it is to its mobility alone that she may owe her salvation.
She yields to the wind, and, provided she is strongly built, she is in
a condition to brave the most violent surges. That was the case with
the "Pilgrim."

A few minutes after the top-sail had been torn in pieces, the
foretop-mast stay-sai