im, she is tossed from wave to wave,
shipping seas that threaten to engulf her, or wash everybody overboard.

In this struggle--as it were, for life and death--they lose all hope of
being able to keep company with the warship--all thought of it. It will
be well if they can but save that they are on from going to the bottom
of the sea.

Again they hear the firing, several times repeated--that signal that
they are unable to answer, or unable to avail themselves of its friendly
warning. Situated as they are, it seems sounding a farewell salute--or
it may be their death knell.

Fainter and fainter falls the boom upon their ears; duller and duller at
each successive detonation, which tells that the distance between them
and the frigate, instead of diminishing, increases. However sad and
disheartening, they cannot help it. They dare not put the barque about,
or in any way alter her course. They must keep scudding on, though they
may never see the _Crusader_ again.

At length, no longer do they hear the signal-guns. Whether from greater
distance, or louder vociferation of the tempest, they can no more be
distinguished amidst its voices.

Throughout all the night the barque scuds, storm-buffeted, shipping huge
seas, yet casting them off, and still keeping afloat. Notwithstanding
her distressed condition, she rides the gale through to its termination.

As the morning sun gleams over the ocean, along with the subsiding wind,
the fog also lifts, leaving both sea and sky clear. And still the
_Condor_ is afloat, rolling from beam to beam; her tall smooth masts as
yet in her, her rigging aright, and her bulwarks unbroken. Only the
sails have suffered, and they are all gone.

Grummet is at the wheel, guiding her wayward course; while the two
officers stand upon her quarterdeck, with eyes bent abroad, scanning the
crests of the big billows that go rumbling along.

But there is no _Crusader_ in sight--no frigate--no ship of any kind--
nothing but the wide, fathomless ocean!

They are alone upon it, hundreds of leagues from land, aboard a craft
they may not be able to manage; and all the more difficult with her
sails in shreds. But even were these sound, they have not the strength
to set them. They are helpless; but little better off than if they were
in an open boat!

In very truth, are they in peril!

But they do not dwell upon it now. A thought still more afflicting is
before their minds; and, casting another