or, at
all events, very quickly forgotten. Two of those who stood by and heard
it, were themselves, within two days, called to their last and dread
account. Mr Vernon took it very much to heart; anxious and agitated as
he had been of late, his nerves were much shaken, and I feared that he
would be the next victim. He bore up bravely, like a Christian, for
some time; but, as one after another of the crew was taken ill, he
succumbed, not to the malady itself, but to very weariness, and was
compelled to take to his cot. My commander's illness threw a larger
amount of responsibility on me than I had ever before enjoyed. I felt
on a sadden grown wonderfully manful, and did my best to be up to my
duty. Watson, the quartermaster, was a great aid to me. The old man
seemed never to want sleep. He was on deck at all hours, constantly on
the look-out, or seeing that the sentries were on the alert. Perhaps he
did not place full confidence in my experience. We had had light winds
or calms, with a hot burning sun, and sultry nights, for nearly a week.
When this weather commenced, the plague appeared. The barometer had
been falling for some hours; but still there was no other indication of
a change of weather. A fourth man was taken ill. I had gone below to
report the case to Mr Vernon, when I heard Watson's voice, in quick
eager tones, calling the people on deck to shorten sail. I sprang up
the companion-ladder. The sea was as smooth as glass, and the sky was
bright and clear enough in the south-east, whence a small dark cloud
came sweeping up at a rapid rate towards us. I perceived that there was
not a moment to lose. The people sprang to the halyards and brails; but
before all the sail could be taken off the vessel, the squall had struck
her. Over she went on her beam-ends. A cry of terror was heard above
the roar of the wind in the rigging, and the rattling of ropes and
blocks, and the dash of the surging waves. The water almost reached the
combings of the hatches: everybody on deck thought we were gone. Two of
the men were washed overboard. Watson, who was aft, hove one of them a
rope. He seized it with convulsive energy: his life, dear to the
meanest, depended on the firmness of his grasp. We hauled him in out of
the seething cauldron; but the other poor fellow drifted far away. To
the last he kept his straining eyes fixed on the vessel. He was a
strong swimmer, and struck out bravely--lifting himself, ev