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fainting fit and with Mary Llewellyn ministering to her wants, although "the Major" could not help scolding the latter at intervals, as if she were the cause of the disaster. In the midst of all this, down came Mr McCarthy, the first mate, from the poop. "Be jabers and it's a foine time you are having of it, any way!" said he by way of greeting, looking round with a quizzical cock of his eye at the dismantled cuddy. "I only thought you'd have had a drop of wather or two whin the skoilight got adrift, and we've rigged up tarpaulins over it and battened it down comfortably, so that ye'll not be throubled any more by the say washing down. But, how did the table git carried away! It was fixed down so strong it's a puzzle to me entirely!" "Goodness only knows," said Mr Meldrum; "there came a tremendous crash amidships soon after midnight, and away it went!" "Ah that was whin that gossoon Adams had howlt of the helm. The omahdawn, he was looking up at the spars and tellin' the cap'en about taking the topsails off her, as she was carrying too much sail, instead of mindin' his own business and lookin' to the steering; and, faix, he let the ship broach to, bad cess to him!" "And how are you getting on now, on deck?" asked Mr Meldrum. "Will, sorr," said the mate, speaking more earnestly than was his usual wont, and dropping his voice so that no one else could hear him. "To spake the truth and shame the divil--faix it's no lie I'm telling--we're right in the centre of a cyclone, and the Lord only knows if we'll iver git out of it!" "I thought so," murmured Mr Meldrum; "my poor children!" "Sure and be a man now!" whispered the mate as Kate came out of Mrs Major Negus' cabin. "I wouldn't have tould you if I had thought contrariwise!" "I was not thinking of myself," said Mr Meldrum sternly; "what sail are you carrying?" "Sail!" exclaimed Mr McCarthy; "faix and its joking ye are! Ivery stitch of canvas, sure, was blown to smithereens when the ship broached to, and the foretop-mast was thin took out of her, too, by the same token! The divil a hap'orth are we carrying, save a piece of tarpaulin lashed in the weather rigging to kape her hid to the say, and that's all we can do till daylight comes, if we iver say it, please God, for it's as dark now as a blue dog in a black entry, and you couldn't say your hand before your face to set any sail, if ever a man could git up the rigging--but whist now about that!
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