alm to all appearance as if he had been beating up Plymouth
Sound. The men at the helm kept their eyes alternately on him and on
the sails, ready to obey the slightest sign he might make. Although the
topsails were close reefed, they seemed to bend the spars and masts as
they tugged and strained to be free; Mr Martin, the boatswain, kept his
eye anxiously on them. Now was the time to prove whether the spars were
sound, and, if they were sound, whether the rigging had been properly
set up, and if that also was sound throughout. A ship, like a human
being, is best tried in adversity; it is not in smooth seas and with
gentle breezes that her qualities can be proved, any more than the
nature of a man can be ascertained if all goes smoothly and easily with
him. Therefore, let no one venture to put confidence in himself, till
he has been tossed about by the storms of life, and by that time he will
have learned that he is weak and frail under all circumstances, unless
sustained by the power of the Holy Spirit, who is alone able to keep him
from falling. Ben and Tom had crept up to near where Mr Martin was
standing. He saw them exchanging looks with each other.

"There'll be a watery grave for all on board if the spars go," observed
Mr Gimblet. "Still, it's a satisfaction to believe that they are as
sound sticks as ever grew."

"It's just providential that we set up our rigging only t'other day. If
this gale had caught us with it as it was before that time, we might
have cried good-bye to our spars, sound as they are," said Mr Martin.
"Even now, I wish that the wind would come a point or two more on our
quarter; we make great leeway, there's no doubt about that."

Ben and Tom overheard these remarks of the two warrant-officers. Ben
fully understood the danger the ship was in, and that before an hour or
so was over he and all on board might be in a watery grave; for he saw
how impossible it would be for the stoutest ship to hold together if she
once struck on the reef to leeward, the fearful character of which had
now become more distinct than ever. The sea broke against it with
terrific force, rising high up in a wall of water, and then fell curling
back on the side from which it came. Not the strongest swimmer could
exist for a minute among those breakers. Far away ahead it seemed to
extend in one long unbroken line.

The hearts of many on board began to sink; not with unmanly fear, but
life was sweet; they had