eel to see the orders to the steersmen obeyed. In half-an-hour
all was clear, and the ship was scudding before the gale under bare
poles.

"We've not seen the worst of it," remarked the captain, as he resumed
his post on the quarter-deck, and brushed the brine from his whiskers;
"I fear, too, that she has received some bad thumps from the wreck of
the foremast. You'd better go below, Sinton, and put on a topcoat; its
no use gettin' wetter than you can help."

"I'm as wet as I can be, captain; besides, I can work better as I am, if
there's anything for me to do."

"Well, there ain't much: you'll have enough to do to keep yourself from
being washed overboard. How's her head, Larry?"

"Nor' east an' by east," replied one of the men at the wheel, Larry
O'Neil by name--a genuine son of Erin, whose jovial smile of rollicking
good humour was modified, but by no means quenched, by the serious
circumstances in which he found himself placed. His comrade, William
Jones, who stood on the larboard side of the wheel, was a short,
thick-set, stern seaman, whose facial muscles were scarcely capable of
breaking into a smile, and certainly failed to betray any of the owner's
thoughts or feelings, excepting astonishment. Such passions as anger,
pity, disgust, fear, and the like, whatever place they might have in
Jones's breast, had no visible index on his visage. Both men were
sailor-like and powerful, but they were striking contrasts to each
other, as they stood--the one sternly, the other smilingly--steering the
_Roving Bess_ before that howling storm.

"Is not `nor' east and by east' our direct course for the harbour of San
Francisco?" inquired Ned Sinton.

"It is," replied the captain, "as near as I can guess; but we've been
blown about so much that I can't tell exactly. Moreover, it's my
opinion we can't be far off the coast now; and if this gale holds on
I'll have to bring to, at the risk of bein' capsized. Them plaguey
coral-reefs, too, are always springin' up in these seas where you least
expect 'em. If we go bump against one as we are goin' now, its all up
with us."

"Not a pleasant idea," remarked Ned, somewhat gravely. "Do these storms
usually last long?"

Before the captain could reply, the first mate came up and whispered in
his ear.

"Eh! how much d'ye say?" he asked quickly.

"Five feet, sir; she surged heavily once or twice on the foremast, and I
think must have started a plank."

"Call all hands t