out we should be almost abreast of Lyme.
In a short time, however, the sky became covered with thick clouds, the
wind came in fitful gusts, and the hitherto calm ocean was broken into
foam-covered waves.

We reduced our sail as much as possible, and Martin, as the most
experienced, took the helm. The night became darker and darker. We had
no compass, and no land could be seen. Still, supposing that the wind
was now remaining steady, we stood on, our stout boat riding buoyantly
over the increasing seas. Martin at length expressed his fear that the
wind had gone back to its old quarter, and judging by the heavy
foam-crested seas which came rolling on, that we were no longer under
shelter of the land.

We kept up our spirits, though I guessed by the tone of Martin's voice
that he was far from happy at our position. The tide, too, we knew by
this time must have turned, and we should be unable to fetch Lyme.

We might, we agreed, run back to Dartmouth, but the attempt to find the
entrance of the harbour in the darkness of the night would be difficult,
if not dangerous.

Though Martin steered as well as the best of seamen, the rising seas
came washing over our bows, and we all had to turn to and bale out the
boat. This prevented us from thinking of the danger we were in.

At length, not without risk, putting an oar out, we got the boat round,
and stood, as we supposed, towards the shore. By this time we were wet
through to the skin, and in spite of our exertions our teeth were
chattering with cold.

"I hope Mistress Margaret will have some bowls of hot porridge ready for
us when we get in," said Lancelot.

"Oh, don't talk of that," observed Dick. "Let us get in first. Shall
we ever reach the shore, Martin, do you think?"

"That's as God wills, Master Dick," answered Martin. "It's our business
to do our best."

Just then a sudden blast almost laid the boat over. Martin saved her by
luffing-up. Scarcely had he done so than we saw a dark object away on
the starboard hand.

"That's a ship; she's standing directly down upon us," cried Martin.
"Shout, lads, shout at the tops of your voices."

We all shrieked out, joining Martin's deep bass, which rose above the
howling of the storm. The next instant there came a crash, our boat had
been run down, but before she sank, having been happily struck by the
bow, and not by the stern of the ship, we found ourselves alongside,
when Martin, seizing me by the arm an