Then he saw that
the vessel--taken on the broadside by the gale--was lying far over,
with several feet of her lee deck under water. So furious was the
wind that he could not show his head over the weather bulwark. The
sea was still smooth, as if the water was flattened by the force of
the wind. The stay sail had been blown into ribbons.

In order to get the ship's head off the wind, the head of the jib
was hauled up a few feet. It happened to be a new and strong one
and, although it bellied and lashed, as if it would tear itself
into fragments, it still stood. Again the captain gave an order,
and the sail was hauled up to its full height. Still further the
vessel heaved over; and Will expected, every moment, that she would
capsize. Then, gradually, her head paid off, and slowly she
righted, and flew before the gale.

"That was a near squeak," Will said.

"What is zqueak?" Hans shouted.

"I mean a close shave," Will replied.

Hans' blue eyes opened wider than usual.

"A zhave!" he repeated; "what are you talking about zhaving?"

"No, no," Will said, laughing, "I mean a narrow escape of being
capsized."

Hans nodded. There was no time for talk, for orders were given for
getting preventer stays on the foremast. The jib, having done its
work, had been hauled down the instant the ship payed off; and a
small storm sail set, in its place.

The men now had time to attend to those who had been struck by
lightning. Three of them were found to be dead, but the other
two--who were stunned and senseless--still lived, and were lifted
and carried below.

Serious as the disaster had been, Will felt that the stroke of
lightning had saved the ship. The pressure of the wind, upon two
masts and hull, had nearly sufficed to capsize her. Had the main
mast stood, he felt that she must have gone over.

The sea got up in a very few minutes but, being now only in light
ballast, the vessel rose easily over them. Four men were at the
helm, for the waves soon became so high that the ship yawed
dangerously on her course. The gale seemed to increase, rather than
diminish in fury; and the sea, instead of following in regular
waves, became a perfect chaos of tossing water, such as Will had
never before seen. He understood it, however, when--half an hour
after the outburst of the gale--he heard one of the men, who had
just been relieved at the wheel, say that in that time the ship had
already run twice round the compass. She was therefor