ealed to
the eye, while the ear was filled by the groaning of the screw and the
whistle and boom of the storm.

Nor was the outward agitation the only object of interest to me. I
was at once subject and object to myself, and watched with intense
interest the workings of my own mind. The "Urgent" is an elderly
ship. She had been built, I was told, by a contracting firm for some
foreign Government, and had been diverted from her first purpose when
converted into a troop-ship. She had been for some time out of work,
and I had heard that one of her boilers, at least, needed repair. Our
scanty but excellent crew, moreover, did not belong to the "Urgent,"
but had been gathered from other ships. Our three lieutenants were
also volunteers. All this passed swiftly through my mind as the
steamer shook under the blows of the waves, and I thought that
probably no one on board could say how much of this thumping and
straining the "Urgent" would be able to bear. This uncertainty caused
me to look steadily at the worst, and I tried to strengthen myself in
the face of it.

But at length the helm laid hold of the water, and the ship was got
gradually round to face the waves. The rolling diminished, a certain
amount of pitching taking its place. Our speed had fallen from eleven
knots to two. I went again to bed. After a space of calm, when we
seemed crossing the vortex of a storm, heavy tossing recommenced. I
was afraid to allow myself to fall asleep, as my berth was high, and
to be pitched out of it might be attended with bruises, if not with
fractures. From Friday at noon to Saturday at noon we accomplished
sixty-six miles, or an average of less than three miles an hour. I
overheard the sailors talking about this storm. The "Urgent,"
according to those that knew her, had never previously experienced
anything like it. [Footnote: 'There is, it will be seen, a fair
agreement between these impressions and those so vigorously described
by a scientific correspondent of the 'Times.']

All through Saturday the wind, though somewhat sobered, blew dead
against us. The atmospheric effects were exceedingly fine. The
cumuli resembled mountains in shape, and their peaked summits
shone as white as Alpine snows. At one place this resemblance was
greatly strengthened by a vast area of cloud, uniformly illuminated,
and lying like a _neve_ below the peaks. From it fell a kind of
cloud-river strikingly like a glacier. The horizon