the subject of doubtful dangers of this sort. Seen and acknowledged, he
has no scruples about doing his best to avoid them; but so long as there
is an uncertainty connected with their existence at all, that miserable
feeling of vanity which renders us all so desirous to be more than
nature ever intended us for, inclines most men to appear indifferent
even while they dread. The wisest thing Captain Crutchely could have
done, placed in the circumstances in which he now found himself, would
have been to stand off and on, under easy canvas, until the return of
light, when he might have gone ahead on his course with some confidence,
and a great deal more of safety. But there would have been an air of
concession to the power of an unknown danger that conflicted with his
pride, in such a course, and the old and well-tried ship-master did not
like to give the 'uncertain' this advantage over him. He decided
therefore to stand on, with his topsails reefed, keeping bright
look-outs ahead, and having his courses in the brails, ready for getting
the tacks down to claw off to windward, should it prove to be necessary.
With this plan Mark was compelled to comply, there being no appeal from
the decrees of the autocrat of the quarter deck.

As soon as the decision of Captain Crutchely was made, the helm was put
up, and the ship kept off to her course. It was true, that under
double-reefed topsails, and jib, which was all the canvas set, there was
not half the danger there would have been under their former sail; and,
when Mark took charge of the watch, as he did soon after, or eight
o'clock, he was in hopes, by means of vigilance, still to escape the
danger. The darkness, which was getting to be very intense, was now the
greatest and most immediate source of his apprehensions. Could he only
get a glimpse of the sea a cable's-length ahead, he would have felt vast
relief; but even that small favour was denied him. By the time the
captain and second-mate had turned in, which each did after going below