water with the wind on her quarter, under reefed foresail and storm
staysail. It was with difficulty that three men at the wheel could keep
the helm, such were the blows which the vessel received from the heavy
seas on the quarter. Not one seaman in the ship took advantage of his
watch below to go to sleep that night, careless as they generally are;
the storm was too dreadful. About three o'clock in the morning the wind
suddenly subsided; it was but for a minute or two, and then it again
burst on the vessel from another quarter of the compass, as Ready had
foretold, splitting the foresail into fragments, which lashed and
flogged the wind till they were torn away by it, and carried far to
leeward. The heavens above were of a pitchy darkness, and the only
light was from the creaming foam of the sea on every side. The shift of
wind, which had been to the west-north-west, compelled them to alter
the course of the vessel, for they had no chance but to scud, as they
now did, under bare poles; but in consequence of the sea having taken
its run from the former wind, which had been north-east, it was, as
sailors call it, cross, and every minute the waves poured over the
ship, sweeping all before their weight of waters. One poor man was
washed overboard, and any attempt made to save him would have been
unavailing. Captain Osborn was standing by the weather gunnel, holding
on by one of the belaying-pins, when he said to Mackintosh:

"How long will this last, think you?"

"Longer than the ship will," replied the mate gravely.

"I should hope not," replied the captain; "still it cannot look worse.
What do you think, Ready?"

"Far more fear from above than from below just now," replied Ready,