as does it," holds all over
the world, and brave men drive death and despair back to their
fastnesses. Ferrier thought, "I'm all well except for the active
inhabitants of the cabin. They seem to be colonizing my person and
bringing me under cultivation; barring that I'm not so ill off. If I can
ease my patient, that is something to the good." So he claimed the boy's
assistance for the night, and determined to divide his time between
soothing Withers and lending a hand on deck. Skipper Larmor was
composed, as men of his class generally are; you rarely hear them raise
their voices, and they seldom show signs of being flurried. As quietly
as though he had been wishing his passenger good evening, he said--

"We're blowing away from them, sir, and we can't du much. I hope the
yacht will be able to stand by us. Later on we'll show them a few
flares, and if things get over and above bad I must send some rockets
up."

"I'm mainly anxious about my man below. If we only had any kind of easy
mattress for him I should not be so anxious, but he's thrown about, and
every bad jerk that comes wakes him out of his doze. A healthy
life-guardsman would be helpless after one night like this!"

"As I said, sir; Lord, help us; we must bear what's sent."

The _Haughty Belle_ became more and more inert, and the breeze grew more
and more powerful. The Mediterranean is like a capricious woman; the
North Sea is like a violent and capricious man. The foredoomed smack
was almost like a buoy in a tideway; the sea came over her, screaming as
it met her resistance, like the back-draught among pebbles. Ferrier
found to his dismay that, even if he wanted to render any assistance, he
was too much of a landsman to keep his feet in that inexorable cataract,
and he saw, too, that the vessel was gradually rolling more and more to
starboard. The pumps were mastered, and even on deck the ugly squelch,
squelch of the mass of water below could be heard. Every swing of that
liquid pendulum smote on our young man's heart, and he learned, in a few
short hours, the meaning of Death.

Can a seaman be other than superstitious or religious? The hamper of
ropes that clung round the mainmast seemed to gibber like a man in fever
as the gale threaded the mazes; the hollow down-draught from the
foresail cried in boding tones; it seemed like some malignant elf
calling "Woe to you! Woe for ever! Darkness is coming, and I and Death
await you with cold arms." Every timber