CHAPTER III



The Quenching of the Torch.


"Then rose from sea to sky, the wild farewell."
BYRON, DON JUAN, II. 409


The evening was closing in dark and rainy, with every appearance of a gale
from the westward, and the weather had become so thick and boisterous, that
the lieutenant of the watch had ordered the look--out at the mast--head
down on deck. The man, on his way down, had gone into the maintop to bring
away some things he had placed there in going aloft, and was in the act of
leaving it, when he sung out,--"A sail on the weather--bow."

"What does she look like?"

"Can't rightly say, sir; she is in the middle of the thick weather to
windward."

"Stay where you are a little.--Jenkins, jump forward, and see what you can
make of her from the foreyard."

Whilst the topman was obeying his instructions, the look--out again hailed
"She is a ship, sir, close--hauled on the same tack----the weather clears,