seness when sea and wind do not favour, his savagery to the men, his
snarl and his sneer.

On top the 'midship-house we got a ducking that makes me shiver to
recall. I had dressed too hastily properly to fasten my oilskin about my
neck, so that I was wet to the skin. We crossed the next span of bridge
through driving spray, and were well upon the top of the for'ard-house
when something adrift on the deck hit the for'ard wall a terrific smash.

"Whatever it is, it's playing the devil," Mr. Pike yelled in my ear, as
he endeavoured to locate the thing by the dry-battery light-stick which
he carried.

The pencil of light travelled over dark water, white with foam, that
churned upon the deck.

"There it goes!" Mr. Pike cried, as the _Elsinore_ dipped by the head and
hurtled the water for'ard.

The light went out as the three of us caught holds and crouched to a
deluge of water from overside. As we emerged, from under the forecastle-
head we heard a tremendous thumping and battering. Then, as the bow
lifted, for an instant in the pencil of light that immediately lost it, I
glimpsed a vague black object that bounded down the inclined deck where
no water was. What became of it we could not see.

Mr. Pike descended to the deck, followed by Mr. Mellaire. Again, as the
_Elsinore_ dipped by the head and fetched a surge of sea-water from aft
along the runway, I saw the dark object bound for'ard directly at the
mates. They sprang to safety from its charge, the light went out, while
another icy sea broke aboard.

For a time I could see nothing of the two men. Next, in the light
flashed from the stick, I guessed that Mr. Pike was in pursuit of the
thing. He evidently must have captured it at the rail against the
starboard rigging and caught a turn around it with a loose end of rope.
As the vessel rolled to windward some sort of a struggle seemed to be
going on. The second mate sprang to the mate's assistance, and,
together, with more loose ends, they seemed to subdue the thing.

I descended to see. By the light-stick we made it out to be a large,
barnacle-crusted cask.

"She's been afloat for forty years," was Mr. Pike's judgment. "Look at
the size of the barnacles, and look at the whiskers."

"And it's full of something," said Mr. Mellaire. "Hope it isn't water."

I rashly lent a hand when they started to work the cask for'ard, between
seas and taking advantage of the rolls and pitches, to the shelter under
t