, an enormous wave came curling over the stern.

"Mind your helm, lad!"

The words were scarce uttered when a heavy mass of water fell inboard,
almost crushing down the deck. For some moments it seemed as if the
little vessel were sinking, but she cleared herself, and again rushed
onward.

That night the wind chopped round, and Haco was obliged to lay-to until
daylight, as the weather was thick. Before morning the gale took off
and at sunrise had moderated into a stiff breeze. All that day they
beat slowly and heavily against the wind, which, however, continued to
decrease. At night the wind again veered round to the northward,
enabling the "Coal-Coffin" to spread most of her canvass, keep her
course, and bowl pleasantly along before the breeze. But the weather
was still thick, necessitating a sharp look-out.

During most of this time our friend Billy was confined, much against his
will, to the bandbox cabin, where he did as much mischief as he could in
the circumstances.

Towards midnight, while Haco and Gaff were standing by the man on the
look-out, who was on the heel of the bowsprit, they fancied they
observed something looming up against the dark sky on the weather bow.

The look-out gave a shout.

"Port! port! hard a-port!" roared the skipper, at the same moment
bounding aft.

"Port it is!" replied the man at the wheel, obeying with promptitude.

The sloop sheered away to leeward. At the same instant the hull of a
great vessel bore right down upon them. The yell of the steam-whistle
betrayed her character, while the clanging of the fog-bell, and shouts
of those on board, proved that the sloop had been observed. At the same
time the seething sea that flowed like milk round her bow, showed that
the engines had been reversed, while the captain's voice was heard
distinctly to shout "starboard! starboard hard!" to the steersman.

The promptitude with which these orders were given and obeyed, prevented
the steamer from running down the sloop altogether. A collision,
however, was unavoidable. The crew of the sloop and the Russians,
seeing this, rushed to the place where they expected to be struck, in
order to leap, if possible, into the head of the steamer. Even the
steersman left his post, and sprang into the weather shrouds in the hope
of catching some of the ropes or chains below the bowsprit.

On came the steamer like a great mountain. Her way had been so much
checked that she seemed merely t