"She staggers under it, Mr. Faulkner," said his superior, with a
calmness that evinced perfect self-reliance and coolness, while he
regarded the increasing gale.

"Ay, sir, you can drive her at almost any speed," answered the mate.
"She's like a mettled courser, sir, and loves the fleet track."

"Scud while you can, Mr. Faulkner, it's a true nautical rule. Some men
will always heave a ship to if there is a cap fill of--"

"Double-reef the mainsail!" shouted the captain, interrupting himself,
to give an order that he saw was imperative.

"--Wind, but I believe in scudding, if you can," he added.

"Double-reef foretopsail! and look ye, Mr. Faulkner, have presenter
sheets bent on the foresail, this wind is in earnest," said his
superior, more seriously, as he jumped into the mizzen shrouds and
scanned the sea to windward again.

The gale still increased, and everything being now made snug on board
the "Sea Witch," she was run before it with almost incredible speed. It
would have been a study to have regarded the calm self-possession and
complete coolness of the young commander during this startling gale; he
never once left his post, every inch of the vessel seemed under his eye,
and not the least trifle of duty was for a moment forgotten. If
possible, he was more particular than usual that his orders in the
smallest item were strictly observed, and thus with his iron will and
strong intelligence he mastered every contingency of the hour, imparting