bundance
of sea-room we were safe. Now, who can say what will be our fate?"

Fairburn ordered a lamp for the binnacle; a sickly light was thrown on
the compass. He rushed below. A glance at the chart showed that we
were then driving towards the western end of Sumbawa. Van Graoul and I
followed him.

"Can we weather it and get into Allass Straits?" I asked, as I pointed
to the chart.

The Dutchman shook his head. "There are rocks and islands off there
which we cannot see; we may slip through them by chance, but we must not
reckon on it," he answered.

We returned on deck. The wind blew more furiously than ever, the
darkness also seemed increased. We stood prepared for our fate. We had
done all that men could do. Then I remembered the last words of my kind
guardian, "Never despair, for God is everywhere." I repeated it to my
companions. It gave us courage and confidence, for we felt that we were
in His hands. From mouth to mouth it was passed with reverence along
the decks; and even the rough seamen, unaccustomed to pray, felt its
force and truth. On, on we drove, the water dashed and foamed around
us, the wind howled through the rigging. For an instant there was a
lull, then down again came the blast upon us. The compass told that it
had again shifted, and was now blowing from the north. If it held so,
it would shorten the time before the catastrophe must occur. Every
moment the sea became more agitated, and the broken waves leaped up and
washed over our decks, as if we were running through a troubled race.

"How far-off are we from the shore, think you?" I asked of Fairburn, in
as calm a voice as I could command.

"Still some distance," he replied vaguely. "The wind may shift before
we reach it."

I cannot hope to convey a distinct idea of the inky blackness of the
atmosphere, the howling of the whirlwinds, and the roaring of the waves,
as, utterly unable to help ourselves, we drove furiously onward. In a
few hours, or in a few minutes even, where should we be? Again, before
we could answer the question, the wind changed, with redoubled force it
seemed. It came off the land, whirling us round before it. Its force
seemed to drive back the waves to their proper level. On a sudden,
without a moment's warning, the topsail gave a flap against the mast,
the schooner rocked to and fro in the yet troubled sea, and then all was
still, and the schooner floated calmly, as in a sheltered harbour, on