surprise of the captain, and those who were capable of
intelligent observation, the ship did not immediately strike again, but
sailed straight on as if right against the towering cliffs. Still
onward it went, and as it did so there settled around them a darkness so
profound that no one could see even an inch before his eyes. Then at
last the ill-fated vessel struck, but not with her hull, as might have
been expected. High up above them a terrific crash was heard.

"God help us," exclaimed the captain, "we've sailed straight into a
cave!"

That he was right soon became evident, for immediately after the
crashing of the topmasts against the roof of the cave, a shower of small
stones and several large fragments fell on the deck with a rattle like
that of musketry. Some of the people were struck and injured, though
not seriously so, by the shower.

"Get down below, all of you!" cried the captain, himself taking shelter
under the companion hatchway. But the order was needless, for the
danger was so obvious that every one sought the shelter of the cabins
without delay.

The situation was not only terrible but exceedingly singular, as well as
trying, for as long as stones came thundering down on the deck it would
have been sheer madness to have attempted to do anything aboveboard, and
to sit idle in the cabins with almost certain death staring them in the
face, was a severe test of endurance.

From the motion of the vessel several facts could be deduced. Although
the scraping and crashing of the masts overhead told eloquently of
destruction going on in that direction, the heaving of the ship, and her
striking occasionally on either side, proved that there was deep water
below her. That they were not progressing into an interminable cavern
was made evident by the frequent plunging of the shattered bowsprit
against the inner end of the cave. This action sent the vessel reeling
backwards, as it were, every time she struck, besides shattering the
bowsprit. That the cave, also, was open to the full force of the sea
was only too severely proved by the rush of the billows into it, and the
frequent and severe shocks to which they were in consequence subjected.
These shocks had extinguished the lamps, and it was only by the aid of a
few candles that they were delivered from sitting in absolute darkness.

In these awful circumstances the young Wesleyan proved that, besides the
courage that he had already shown in facing