iting ladies to witness such a spectacle
as a North Sea gale.

Tom observed: "The grandeur is--ah! fahscinating, but it's rather damp
grandeur. It's only grandeur fit for heroes. Give me all my grandeur
dry, if you please."

"Yes, sir," said the streaming skipper, "that was a near thing for you
and me when she shipped it. If I hadn't been on the right side of the
mast, both on us must have gone." Dawn rose slowly; the sky became
blotched with snaky tints of dull yellow and livid grey; the gale kept
on, and the schooner was hove-to to meet a sea of terrifying speed and
height. Two of the ladies were below, only craving to be left alone even
by the stewardess; but the hideous fascination of the storm drew Marion
Dearsley again and again, and she sheltered herself under the hatch, and
looked with awe at the mad turmoil which could be seen astern. Here and
there, far up on the rushing sides of the foaming mountains, stray
smacks hung like specks; the schooner shipped very little water now, and
Ferrier kept the deck with some difficulty. Events succeeded each other
with the terrifying suddenness of shocking dreams, and when the skipper
said, "Thank God for a good vessel under us, sir; many a good man has
gone to meet his Maker this night," Ferrier had quite a new sensation,
which I might almost say approached terror, were I not writing about an
absolutely courageous fellow.

Still the series of moving accidents went on. A smack hove up under the
stern of the schooner, and our skipper said gravely, "That Brixham man's
mad to try sailing that vessel. If one puff comes any harder than the
last, he'll be hove down." Then the skipper turned to look forward, and
Ferrier followed him. A low, strangled moan made them both start and
look down the companion. Marion Dearsley, pointing with convulsively
rigid arm, exclaimed, "The vessel--oh, the poor men!"

That smack was hove down, and her mainsail was held by the weight of
water.

"I expect we must carry away something, but I'm going down to him. Jump
to the wheel, sir, and cast that lashing. When I wave, shove it hard
a-starboard. That way, sir. The men and I must manage forrad. You must
go below at once, Miss. Jim, shove those bolts in."

There was a shock, and Ferrier thought the mainsheet had parted; then
three strongish seas hit the schooner until she shuddered and rolled
under the immense burden. It was a fearful risk, but the vessel freed
herself and drove to the smack.