were within half-a-day's sail of Guernsey, and were expecting to get
in there next morning, when a heavy gale sprang up from the north-west,
and before we could take the canvas off the ship--for we were very
short-handed--every yard of it was blown out of the bolt-ropes. We were
in a bad way, for we were already too much to the southward. Still our
captain hoped, if we could bend fresh sails, to weather the islands; but
all that nook of the coast is full of rocks and dangers, and tides
setting here and there, so that it is difficult to tell where a ship
will be drifted to. Twice we tried to bend fresh sails; but each time
they were blown away, before we could hoist them to the yards. Darkness
came on. Two of our shipmates were hove off from the lee yard-arm, and
their despairing shrieks reached our ears as they drifted away, a
warning to us of what might be our fate.

"We have some Jonah on board," I heard the first mate observe to the
second. He was a rough sailor, such as are not often met with
now-a-days, though then they were common. "If we could find him, we
would heave him overboard."

I remembered too well what I had often thought about myself, and felt
thankful that I had kept my own counsel since I was on board, and had
not told my story. The night came on very dark. I do not believe
anybody in the ship knew exactly where we were. Several hours of deep
anxiety passed away. The ship began to labour dreadfully. All we could
hope was that, when daylight returned, we might find ourselves clear to
the northward of all dangers, and then with tolerable sea-room we might
expect to make sail so as to carry the ship into an English port. Vain
were our hopes. Suddenly there was a cry, "Breakers ahead! breakers on
the lee beam!" The ship struck, again and again, with terrific
violence. The masts went by the board; then she seemed to be lifted
over the ledge, and we found her floating in smoother water. We hoped
that we were in some bay where we could bring up and ride out the gale;
but it was too dark for us to distinguish our position. The captain had
just given the order to let go an anchor, when the fearful cry was
uttered, "The ship is sinking! the ship is sinking!"

"Get the boats out, my men; no hurry, now!" cried the captain; but it
was not quite so easy to obey the order or to follow the advice. The
long-boat was stove in; but we had a gig and a whale-boat hanging to the
ship's quarters. We r