d on that," he said, as
he and the rest turned to make their way towards one of the huts, where
they hoped to learn what had become of Quasho and his crew.

Needham and the three youngsters returned on board, and busied
themselves as they had been directed. The heat was greater than they
had yet experienced since they had been in the West Indies, and they
were thankful to see the sun set, albeit, in an unusually ruddy glow,
hoping that it would be cooler at night. The wind had dropped
completely. There was little prospect of putting to sea that night.

"I don't half like the look of the weather, Mr Rogers," said Needham to
Tom, who had remained with him on deck, while Gerald and Archy were
making preparations for supper below. "I wish we were in a snugger
berth, where we could moor ship--that I do."

"Why the water is as calm as a millpond. I don't see how we can come to
any harm," answered Tom. The words were scarcely out of his mouth,
when, with the suddenness of a clap of thunder a fearfully loud rushing
sound was heard, as if the top of the mountain was hurtling down on
their heads. The next instant they were lifted almost off their legs,
and had they not clutched the shrouds they would have been carried
overboard. The breath of the hurricane was upon them. The loosened
canvas blew out and flapped wildly--the little vessel strained
desperately at her anchor, while the water hissed and foamed round her
bows. Gerald and Archy wondering what had happened, came rushing up
from below.

"What's to be done?" they both asked.

"The first thing is to get the mainsail and foresail stowed, and then to
strike the topmast," answered Needham.

With their united strength it was no easy matter to secure the mainsail.
It was done, however, in a way, when Needham casting his eyes towards
the shore, exclaimed--

"The drogher is drifting--we must veer out more cable!"

There were not many fathoms to spare. The fury of the blast, however,
had somewhat decreased, and the vessel appeared to be stationary.
Needham hurried aloft, and while the midshipmen hauled on the heel-rope
of the topmast--the shrouds and stays being slacked--he tugged away at
the fid. He had just got it out, when a second blast as furious as the
first burst on them--a loud report was heard. Ned slid down like
lightning from aloft, and sprang aft to the helm. Tom, who had run
forward, exclaimed--

"The cable has parted!"

"I know it," answered