rent by lightning as it fell upon us.

Then it was rain, wind, obscureness of gloom, and lightning. I
caught a glimpse of the men on the lower-yards as they were blotted
from view and as the Elsinore heeled over and down. There were
fifteen men of them to each yard, and the gaskets were well passed
ere we were struck. How they regained the deck I do not know, I
never saw; for the Elsinore, under only upper- and lower-topsails,
lay down on her side, her port-rail buried in the sea, and did not
rise.

There was no maintaining an unsupported upright position on that
acute slant of deck. Everybody held on. Mr. Pike frankly gripped
the poop-rail with both hands, and Miss West and I made frantic
clutches and scrambled for footing. But I noticed that the Samurai,
poised lightly, like a bird on the verge of flight, merely rested one
hand on the rail. He gave no orders. As I divined, there was
nothing to be done. He waited--that was all--in tranquillity and
repose. The situation was simple. Either the masts would go, or the
Elsinore would rise with her masts intact, or she would never rise
again.

In the meantime she lay dead, her lee yardarms almost touching the
sea, the sea creaming solidly to her hatch-combings across the
buried, unseen rail.

The minutes were as centuries, until the bow paid off and the
Elsinore, turned tail before it, righted to an even keel.
Immediately this was accomplished Captain West had her brought back
upon the wind. And immediately, thereupon, the big foresail went