d calm, this was of no consequence, and the
most prudent seamanship; as it is, at times, difficult to judge the
period a squall my take to travel up to a ship.

The brig still lay with her head a little to the northward of east, and
her yards were now braced up on the starboard tack to meet the wind
which gave signs of coming from the southward and east. Every
preparation was made, and all hands were at their stations, ready to
execute any of their commander's orders which the emergency might
require, when Ada, wearied of remaining in the hot cabin, came on deck,
followed by her little maid; and before Bowse, who was looking to the
southward, perceived them, they had gained the poop.

"This is no place for you, miss, I am sure," he exclaimed, on seeing
her. "You do not know what risk you run. Oh, go below again--go
below."

"Why, what is the matter, Captain Bowse?" she replied, laughing, and
looking at the calm sea. "My uncle told me that we were to have a
tremendous storm, and I do not feel a breath of wind."

"And so we shall, miss," he exclaimed. "You have no time to go below
now without assistance. Hold on by these cleats, and tell your maid to
do so too. Here it comes!"

As he spoke, the mass of clouds which had been collecting to the
eastward, and gradually approaching, now came driving up bodily across
the sky at a rapid rate--the dark waters below it, hitherto so smooth
and calm, presented a sheet of snow-white foam, hissing and bubbling as
if it were turned up and impelled onward by some gigantic besom. Ada,
as she gazed with feelings of mingled terror and admiration, saw it in
one long line near the brig--it reached her side--the white foam flew
upwards, curling over them, and the wind, at the same instant, striking
her canvas, her tall masts seemed to bend to its fury, and then pressed
downwards, the hull heeled over till the lee bulwarks were nearly
submerged.

Two strong hands were at the helm, ready to turn it a-weather, should it
be necessary to scud; but, in an instant, the gallant ship rose again--
and then, like a courser starting for the race, she shot forward through
the boiling cauldron, heeling over till her guns were in the water, but
still bravely carrying her canvas. Not a rope nor a lanyard had
started--not a seam in her topsails had given, and away she flew on her
proper course. The veteran master stood on the poop watching for any
change or increase of wind. The safety of th