amidships.
"Shank-painter's jammed, Bill. Can't do a thing without a light."

"Come aft here and get it. Steward's drunk."

The doors in the forward part of the cabin slammed, and the mate's
profanity mingled with the protest of the steward in the cabin. Then
shouts came from forward, borne on the gale, and soon followed by the
shuffling of feet as the men groped their way aft and climbed the poop
steps.

"We're stone-blind, cappen," they wailed. "We lit the fo'c'sle lamp,
an' it don't show up. We can't see it. Nobody can see it. We're all
blind."

"Come down here, Bill," called the mate from below.

As Captain Swarth felt his way down the stairs a sudden shock stilled
the vibrations caused by the dragging anchor, and he knew that the
chain had parted.

"Stand by on deck, Angel; we're adrift," he said. "It's darker than ten
thousand black cats. What's the matter with you?"

"Can you see the light, Bill? I can't. I'm blind as the steward, or I'm
drunker."

"No. Is it lit? Where? The men say they're blind, too."

"Here, forrard end o' the table."

The captain reached this end, searched with his hands, and burned them
on the hot glass of a lantern. He removed the bowl and singed the hair
on his wrists. The smell came to his nostrils.

"I'm blind, too," he groaned. "Angel, it's the moon. We're
moonstruck--moon-blind. And we're adrift in a squall. Steward," he said
as he made his way toward the stairs, "light the binnacle, and stop
that whining. Maybe some one can see a little."

When he reached the deck he called to the men, growling, cursing, and
complaining on the poop. "Down below with you all!" he ordered. "Pass
through and out the forrard door. If any man sees the light on the
cabin table, let that man sing out."

They obeyed him. Twenty men passed through the cabin and again climbed
the poop stairs, their lamentations still troubling the night. But not
one had seen the lantern. Some said that they could not open their eyes
at all; some complained that their faces were swollen; others that
their mouths were twisted up to where their ears should be; and one man
averred that he could not breathe through his nose.

"It'll only last a few days, boys," said the captain, bravely; "we
shouldn't have slept in the moonlight in these latitudes. Drop the lead
over, one of you--weather side. The devil knows where we're drifting,
and the small anchor won't hold now; we'll save it." Captain Swarth was
himself aga