to occupy the attention of those on deck
for a while.

In the mean time the flashes of lightning, becoming less vivid, showed
nothing else, far or near, but the billows weltering round the vessel.
The sailors seemed to think that they had not yet seen the worst, but
confined their remarks and prognostications to their own circle.

At this time, the captain, who had hitherto remained in his berth,
came on deck, and, with a gay and unconcerned air, inquired what was
the cause of the general dread. He said he thought they had already
seen the worst of the weather, and wondered that his men had raised
such a hubbub about a capful of wind. Mention being made of the Flying
Dutchman, the captain laughed. He said, "he would like very much to
see any vessel carrying topgallant-sails in such a night, for it would
be a sight worth looking at." The chaplain, taking him by one of the
buttons of his coat, drew him aside, and appeared to enter into
serious conversation with him.

While they were talking together, the captain was heard to say, "Let
us look to our own ship, and not mind such things;" and accordingly,
he sent a man aloft, to see if all was right about the fore-topsail
yard, which was chafing the mast with a loud noise.

It was Tom Willis who went up; and when he came down, he said that all
was tight, and that he hoped it would soon get clearer; and that they
would see no more of what they were most afraid of.

The captain and first mate were heard laughing loudly together, while
the chaplain observed, that it would be better to repress such
unseasonable gaiety. The second mate, a native of Scotland, whose name
was Duncan Saunderson, having attended one of the University classes
at Aberdeen, thought himself too wise to believe all that the sailors
said, and took part with the captain. He jestingly told Tom Willis to
borrow his grandam's spectacles the next time he was sent to keep a
look-out ahead. Tom walked sulkily away, muttering, that he would
nevertheless trust to his own eyes till morning, and accordingly took
his station at the bow, and appeared to watch as attentively as
before.

The sound of talking soon ceased, for many returned to their berths,
and we heard nothing but the clanking of the ropes upon the masts, and
the bursting of the billows ahead, as the vessel successively took the
seas.

But after a considerable interval of darkness, gleams of lightning
began to reappear. Tom Willis suddenly called