Ned. "Hoist a foot of the foresail, Mr Rogers."

The drogher spun round like a top, and off she flew before the
hurricane.

"Hadn't we better jump into the boat, and let the vessel go?" asked
Archy.

"We could never pull to shore in the teeth of this wind, sir," answered
Needham. "We can't get her on board, or tow her either--we must let her
go."

Meantime, Tom and Gerald had been busy in stowing the fore-sail and
securing the topmast shrouds and stays. As they looked aft for an
instant, they could just distinguish some figures on the shore; but amid
the wild tumult, no voices could be heard had they shouted ever so
loudly. Needham now called Tom and Gerald to take the helm while he
tried to find a storm staysail, hoping with a couple of feet of it set
to be able to scud before the hurricane.

"It's our only chance," he said, "we've no hope of beating back till
it's over--and the wider berth we give the island the better; for if the
wind shifts we may be blown right on it, and lose the craft and our own
lives too."

The prospect was an appalling one--but the midshipmen did not lose
heart. Away flew the drogher amid the roaring seas into the pitchy
darkness, which now settled down over the ocean.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A BALL AT ANTIGUA--A HURRICANE PUTS A STOP TO THE DANCING--A RIDE
THROUGH THE STORM--MURRAY'S RIDE WITH STELLA, AND A DECLARATION--COLONEL
O'REGAN AND HIS DAUGHTER SAIL IN THE SARAH JANE.

The inhabitants of Antigua are noted for their hospitality. The
officers of the two ships received as many invitations as they could
accept, with the loan of horses whenever they chose to ride. They lived
on shore in airy barracks--far pleasanter quarters than the close cabins
of the ships afforded. The colonel and his daughter were living at a
cottage in the neighbourhood. Murray was Stella's constant attendant
when she rode, and a frequent visitor at the cottage. If her father
remarked the attention paid her by the young lieutenant, he did not
consider it necessary to interfere. Perhaps he had ascertained that
Murray was well off, and thought it best to let matters take their
course; or, perhaps, absorbed in his own schemes, it did not occur to
him that his daughter, who seemed so devoted to the cause he advocated,
could do so weak a thing as fall in love. At all events, Alick lived in
an elysium partly created by his imagination, and did not allow the
future to interfere with his present happine