sea, and that under the disadvantage of being lashed to the frame. A
more perilous position than that in which the old brig Janson now
lay, it was impossible to imagine.

"'Tis the worst hurricane I've ever experienced upon the West India
coast, Captain, but it's too furious to last long; and if she don't
go to pieces before morning, I'll give her credit for what I've
always swore against her. She can't keep afloat though, if it hangs
on another hour in this way," said the mate, who, with the Captain
and Manuel, had just made an ineffectual attempt to rig a storm
stay-sail, to try and lay her to under it. For the mate swore by his
knowledge of her qualities, that to put her before it, would be
certain foundering. The gale continued with unabated fury for about
two hours, and stopped about as suddenly as it commenced. The work
of destruction was complete, for from her water-line to the stump of
the remaining spars, the Janson floated a complete wreck.

The captain gave orders to clear away the wreck, and get what little
sail they could patch up, upon her, for the purpose of working her
into the nearest port. The mate was not inclined to further the
order, evidently laboring under the strong presentiment that she was
to be their coffin. He advised that it was fruitless to stick by her
any longer, or hazard an attempt to reach a port with her, in such a
leaky and disabled condition. "If we don't abandon her, Skipper,"
said he, "she'll abandon us. We'd better make signal for the first
vessel, and bid the old coffin good-by."

The captain was more determined in his resolution, and instead of
being influenced by the mate's fears, continued his order, and the
men went to work with a cheerful willingness. None seemed more