of white vapor rising steadily from their midst.

At the break of the poop stood Captain Harris, his legs planted wide
apart, very vigorous, very decisive, very profane. And I must
confess that the shocking oaths which had brought us round the Horn
inspired a kind of confidence in me now. Besides, even from the
poop I could see no flames. But the night was as beautiful as it
had been an hour or two back; the stars as brilliant, the breeze
even more balmy, the sea even more calm; and we were hove-to already,
against the worst.

In this hour of peril the poop was very properly invaded by all
classes of passengers, in all manner of incongruous apparel, in all
stages of fear, rage, grief and hysteria; as we made our way among
this motley nightmare throng, I took Ready by the arm.

"The skipper's a brute," said I, "but he's the right brute in the
right place to-night, Ready !"

"I hope he may be," was the reply. "But we were off our course
this afternoon; and we were off it again during the concert, as
sure as we're not on it now."

His tone made me draw him to the rail.

"But how do you know? You didn't have another look, did you?"

"Lots of looks-at the stars. He couldn't keep me from consulting
them; and I'm just as certain of it as I'm certain that we've a
cargo aboard which we're none of us supposed to know anything about."