ips were seen tossing and tumbling, thrown, as it were from sea to
sea, with but a small amount of canvas to steady them, and even then it
seemed as much as they could bear.

"I wonder which is the _Rainbow_," continued Gilbert; "Vaughan and
Lettice will be watching her with no small anxiety. See, there they
stand on the poop-deck, straining their eyes towards the ship they
suppose to be her: truly, I should grieve were any misfortune to happen
to those on board."

"So should I," said Fenton; "but it is a hard matter to make out which
is the _Rainbow_, though I thought that I could distinguish her from the
rest."

Every moment the gale increased, and the seas rose higher and higher;
six strong men were at the helm, but even then with difficulty could the
ship be steered. The sails were closely furled, with the exception of a
small foretopsail, and away the stout ship flew--now dipping into one
sea, the foaming crest of which came rushing over the deck, now rising
to the summit of another. Still Lettice, with her brother's arm round
her waist to secure her, stood on the poop; her face was pale, though
not with alarm for herself or those with her so much as for the
_Rainbow_, for she naturally thought "if such is the buffeting our large
ship is receiving, what must be the condition of so small a bark as the
_Rainbow_," towards which ship her and her brother's eyes were cast, as
they supposed. Those who could have distinguished one ship from the
other were busy in attending to their respective duties.

Gilbert and his messmates still kept their post; they, too, were
watching, as they believed, the _Rainbow_, which was endeavouring, as it
seemed, to set more canvas, to bear up for the Admiral. Now she
appeared sinking into the deep trough of the sea, now tossed up
helplessly to the summit of another, again to descend, when her hull
could scarcely be distinguished amid the masses of foam which danced
madly round her. As she lay deep down in the watery valley a huge sea
rolled over her deck, and she did not rise again on the other side. A
cry escaped from the three lads: "She's gone! she's gone!"--echoed by
many on deck.

Lettice, with straining eyes, gazed at the spot where the ship had been.
Vaughan, his heart torn with anguish, endeavoured to support her, but
could ill restrain his own feelings, believing as he did that Cicely had
perished. The admiral had seen what had occurred, and with gentle force
conveye