was very civil, merely shrugged his shoulders when he saw our flag, and
observed that it was the fortune of war, and that, as we were the most
numerous, France had lost no honour, though she lost the dependency. He
supplied us for a trifle with a bottle of goat's milk, and as many
melons, pines, and mangoes as we could manage to eat. He politely
assisted in taking them down to the boat. As he did so he looked round
the horizon seaward, and up at the sky. "Messieurs will do well to
remain at anchor for a few hours longer," he observed. "We are going to
have a change of weather. It may be slight, or it may be very great,
and you will be more content on shore than at sea." We thanked him for
his advice, but the midshipmen asserting that if we stopped they might
not be able to rejoin their ship at the right time, it was disregarded.
On standing out again, however, we saw that the hope of getting round
the island was vain, and that our surest course would be to return by
the way we had come. The weather soon changed; ugly clouds collected
and came sweeping up from the west and south, though as yet but little
wind filled our sails.

"I am afraid that we are going to have a storm," I observed.

"Oh, no fear; I don't think that there will be anything in it," answered
Toby Trundle.

"I think that there'll be a great deal in it, and I would advise you
gentlemen to make the best of your way back to the bay we have just
left," said O'Carroll.

The midshipmen looked at him as much as to say, What do you know about
the matter? Jacotot was too busy cooking an omelette to attend to the
weather, or he should have warned us. The question was settled by a
sudden gust which came off the land, and laid the boat on her beam-ends.
I thought we were going to capsize, and so we should, but crack away
went both our masts, and the boat righted, one-third full of water. We
all looked at each other for a moment aghast. It was a mercy that no
one was washed overboard. A second and stronger gust followed the
first, and on drove the boat helplessly before it. "You'll pump and
bale out the water, and get on board the wreck of the masts," said
O'Carroll, quietly.

We followed his advice as best we could. Jacotot, who was attending to
his little stove below when the squall struck us, popped up his head
with his white nightcap on, and his countenance so ludicrously
expressive of dismay that, in spite of the danger we were in, Trundle