he distance, and he fancied it
was a little before daybreak. Bursts of spray came hurtling in through
the foremast shrouds, and the whine and rattle of running wire and
chain fell from the windy blackness overhead whence the banging of
loosened canvas came to his ears. Glancing aloft he watched the great
arches of the half-sheeted topsails swell blackly out and then collapse
again with a thunderous flap. Somebody was shouting from the slanted
top-gallant-yard that swung in a wide arc above them, but Black had no
time for further inspection.

"Lay aloft and loose maintopsails! Are you figuring we brought you
here to admire the scenery?" a hoarse voice challenged.

Half-dazed and sullenly savage Black had still sense enough to reflect
that it would be little use to expect that the harassed mate would
listen to reason then. Clawing his way up the ratlines he laid his
chest upon the main-topsail-yard and worked his way out to the lower
end of the long inclined spar. Here, still faint and dizzy, he hung
with the footrope jammed against his heel, as he felt for the gasket
that held the canvas to the yard. Swinging through the blackness
across a space of tumbling foam he felt a horrible unsteadiness. There
were other men behind him, for he could hear them swearing and coughing
until a black wall of banging canvas sank beneath him when somebody
roared: "Sheet her home!"

Then a hail came down across the waters from the tug. There was a loud
splash beneath the bows, while shadowy figures that howled a weird
ditty as they hove the hawser in, rose and fell black against the
foam-flecked sea on the dripping forecastle. Nobody had missed Black,
who now sat astride the yard watching the tug, as the ship, listing
over further and commencing to hurl the spray in clouds about her
plunging bows, gathered way. The steamboat would slide past very close
alongside, and he saw a last chance of escape. Moving out to the very
yard-arm he clutched the lee-brace, which rope led diagonally downwards
to the vessel's depressed rail. He looked below a moment, bracing
himself for the perilous attempt.

The tug was close abreast of the ship's forecastle now, evidently
waiting with engines stopped until the vessel should pass her. The
crew was still heaving in the cable or loosing the top-gallants, and
froth boiled almost level with the depressed rail. Black was a poor
swimmer, but he could keep his head above water for a considerable