"About midnight of the 28th the gale was at its worst. Darkness that
could be felt between the flashes of lightning. Thunder that was nearly
drowned by the roaring of the wind an' the crashing of everything all
round. To save their lives the people had to fling themselves into
ditches and hollows of the ground. Mr. Ross and some of his people were
lying in the shelter of a wall near his house. There had been a schooner
lying not far off. When Mr. Ross raised his head cautiously above the
wall to have a look to wind'ard he saw the schooner comin' straight for
him on the top of a big wave. 'Hold on!' he shouted, fell flat down,
and laid hold o' the nearest bush. Next moment the wave burst right over
the wall, roared on up to the garden, 150 yards above highwater mark,
and swept his house clean away! By good fortune the wall stood the
shock, and the schooner stuck fast just before reachin' it, but so near
that the end of the jib-boom passed right over the place where the
household lay holdin' on for dear life and half drowned. It was a
tremendous night," concluded the captain, "an' nearly everything on the
islands was wrecked, but they've survived it, as you'll see. Though it's
seven years since that cyclone swep' over them, they're all right and
goin' ahead again, full swing, as if nothin' had happened."

"And is Ross III. still king?" asked Nigel with much interest.

"Ay--at least he was king a few years ago when I passed this way and had
occasion to land to replace a tops'l yard that had been carried away."

"Then you won't arrive as a stranger?"

"I should think not," returned the captain, getting up and gazing
steadily at the _atoll_ or group of islets enclosed within a coral ring
which they were gradually approaching.