t's
like playing at Blind Man's Buff shut up in a water tank."

Another awful roar, ten times as deafening as that of the loudest peal
of thunder, now struck them heavily--short, quick--sudden, but there was
no echoing reverberation or rolling sound as with thunder, and now
convinced that it could not be the effects of a thunderstorm, the mate
turned to his companion, and said,--

"It's a big volcano hard at it somewhere, gentlemen, and these are not
rain clouds shutting us in, but smoke."

"But what volcano can it be?" said Lane, as a peculiar nervous tremor
attacked him.

"You tell me whereabouts we are, and I'll tell you what burning mountain
that is. If you can't tell me, I can't tell you. Wait till the clouds
open, and I'll get an observation. First thing, though, is to make sail
and get away."

He knew the folly of his remark as he spoke, for the wind had completely
dropped now, and it was noted as strange that no rush of air came after
each explosion. There was the heavy concussion and then a terrible
stillness, the air being perfectly motionless, and this appearing the
more strange after the frightful tornado through which they had passed.
Silence absolute, and a darkness as thick as that of the great plague of
Egypt--a darkness that could be felt. And now, making no headway
whatever, the vessel rolled heavily in the tossing waves, which boiled
round them as it were, as if there were some violent disturbance going
on far beneath the keel.

"I never see nought like this," whispered the first sailor Smith, as if
he were afraid of his words being heard. "Ship's going it like a
dumpling in a pot."

"And I never felt anything like it, gentlemen," said the mate in a low
awe-stricken tone. "But we mustn't show any white feathers, eh, Mr
Lane? Ah, Mr Drew, come to give us your opinion?"

This to the gentleman they had left in the cabin.

"I have come to bring terrible news, Mr Rimmer," said the fresh-comer,
gravely. "A few minutes after you had left the cabin, Captain White
rose suddenly upon his elbow. `Fetch Mr Rimmer,' he said; `no: don't
leave me. He can do no good. It's all getting dark. Tell Mr Rimmer
to do his best but I know he will. Stay with me to the last, Mr Drew.'
I should have run and called for help, but it was all too plain, Mr
Rimmer. He was dying, and directly after he sank back on his pillow,
gave me one sad look as if to say good-bye, and all was over."

The terrible silen