hip _Circassian_, A I, bound to
Liverpool.
CHAPTER III
THE GALE
Those who, standing on the pier, had witnessed the proud bearing of the
_Circassian_ as she gave her canvas to the winds, little contemplated
her fate: still less did those on board; for confidence is the
characteristic of seamen, and they have the happy talent of imparting
their confidence to whomsoever may be in their company. We shall pass
over the voyage, confining ourselves to a description of the
catastrophe.
It was during a gale from the north-west, which had continued for three
days, and by which the _Circassian_ had been driven into the Bay of
Biscay, that, at about twelve o'clock at night, a slight lull was
perceptible. The captain, who had remained on deck, sent down for the
chief mate. 'Oswald,' said Captain Ingram, 'the gale is breaking, and I
think before morning we shall have had the worst of it. I shall lie down
for an hour or two: call me if there be any change.'
Oswald Bareth, a tall, sinewy-built, and handsome specimen of
transatlantic growth, examined the whole circumference of the horizon
before he replied. At last his eyes were steadily fixed to leeward:
'I've a notion not, sir,' said he; 'I see no signs of clearing off to
leeward: only a lull for relief, and a fresh hand at the bellows, depend
upon it.'
'We have now had it three days,' replied Captain Ingram, 'and that's the
life of a summer's gale.'
'Yes,' rejoined the mate; 'but always provided that it don't blow black
again. I don't like the look of it, sir; and have it back we shall, as
sure as there's snakes in Virginny.'
'Well, so be if so be,' was the safe reply of the captain. 'You must
keep a sharp look-out, Bareth, and don't leave the deck to call me; send
a hand down.'
The captain descended to his cabin. Oswald looked at the compass in the
binnacle--spoke a few words to the man at the helm--gave one
or two terrible kicks in the ribs to some of the men who were
_caulking_--sounded the pump-well--put a fresh quid of tobacco into his
cheek, and then proceeded to examine the heavens above. A cloud, much
darker and more descending than the others, which obscured the
firmament, spread over the zenith, and based itself upon the horizon to
leeward. Oswald's eye had been fixed upon it but a few seconds, when he
beheld a small lambent gleam of lightning pierce through the most opaque
part; then another, and more vivid. Of a sudden the wind lulled, and th
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