altogether."

The captain paused at this point, and Larry O'Hale took the opportunity
to break in.

"D'ye know, sir," said he, "that same Gulf Strame has rose a lot o'
pecooliar spekilations in my mind, which, if I may make so bowld,
I'll--"

Here the mate's voice interrupted him gruffly with--

"Shake out a reef in that top-gall'n s'l; look alive, lads!"

Larry and his comrades sprang to obey. When they returned to their
former place in the bow, the captain had left it, so that the cook's
"pecooliar spekilations" were not at that time made known.

CHAPTER FOUR.

A STORM AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

In course of time the _Foam_, proceeding prosperously on her voyage,
reached the region of Cape Horn--the cape of storms. Here, in days of
old, Magellan and the early voyagers were fiercely buffeted by winds and
waves. In later days Cook and others met with the same reception. In
fact, the Cape is infamous for its inhospitality, nevertheless it shone
with bright smiles when the _Foam_ passed by, and a gentle fair-wind
wafted her into the great Pacific Ocean. Never, since that eventful day
when the adventurous Castilian, Vasco Nunez de Balboa, discovered this
mighty sea, did the Pacific look more peaceful than it did during the
first week in which the _Foam_ floated on its calm breast. But the calm
was deceitful. It resembled the quiet of the tiger while crouching to
make a fatal spring.

Will Osten reclined against the top of the mainmast, to which he had
ascended in order to enjoy, undisturbed, the quiet of a magnificent
evening.

The sun was setting in a world of clouds, which took the form of
mountains fringed with glittering gold and with shadows of pearly grey.

Oh what castles young Osten did build on these mountains, to be sure!
Structures so magnificent that Eastern architects, had they seen them,
would have hung their heads and confessed themselves outdone. But you
must not imagine, reader, that the magnificence of all of these depended
on their magnitude or richness. On the contrary, one of them was a mere
cottage--but then, it was a pattern cottage. It stood in a palm-wood,
on a coral island near the sea-shore, with a stream trickling at its
side, and a lake full of wild fowl behind, and the most gorgeous
tropical plants clustering round its open windows and door, while
inside, seated on a couch, was a beautiful girl of fifteen (whom Will
had often imagined, but had not yet seen), whose aubu