of his state-room fittings: the bulkhead, his desk, chronometer,
cutlass, and clothing hanging on the hooks. It was a joyous sight, and
he shouted in gladness. He could not see with his right eye and but
dimly with his left, but a scrutiny of his face in a mirror disclosed
deep lines that had not been there, distorted eyelids, and the left
side where the coffee had scalded puffed to a large, angry blister. He
tied up his face, leaving his left eye free, and went on deck.

The wind had moderated, but on all sides was a wild gray waste of
heaving, white-crested combers, before which the brig was still
scudding under the staysail. Three miles off on the port bow was a
large, square-bowed, square-yarded ship, hove to and heading away from
them, which might be a frigate or a subsidized Englishman with painted
ports; but in either case she could not be investigated now. He looked
at the compass. The brig was heading about southeast, and his judgment
was confirmed. Two haggard-faced men with bandaged eyes were grinding
the wheel to starboard and port, and keeping the brig's yaws within two
points each way--good work for blind men. Angel Todd stood near, his
chin resting in his hand and his elbow on the companionway. Forward the
watch sat about in coils of rope and sheltered nooks or walked the deck
unsteadily, and a glance aloft showed the captain his rigging hanging
in bights and yards pointed every way. She was unkempt as a wreck. The
same glance apprised him of an English ensign, union down, tattered and
frayed to half its size, at the end of the standing spanker-gaff, with
the halyards made fast high on the royal-backstay, above the reach of
bungling blind fingers. Tom Plate was coming aft with none of the
hesitancy of the blind, and squinting aloft at the damaged
distress-signal. He secured another ensign--American--from the
flag-locker in the booby-hatch, mounted the rail, and hoisted it, union
down, in place of the other. Then he dropped to the deck and looked
into the glaring left eye and pepper-box pistol of Captain Swarth, who
had descended on him.

"Hands up, Tom Plate, over your head--quick, or I'll blow your brains
out!"

White in the face and open-mouthed, Tom obeyed.

"Mr. Todd," called the captain, "come down here--port main-rigging."

The mate came quickly, as he always did when he heard the prefix to his
name. It was used only in emergencies.

"What soundings did you get at the lead when we were blowing