arently to fire her whole broadside at us. As she did so, the wind
suddenly increased. Over she heeled. She was almost concealed from
sight by the clouds of spray and dense masses of rain which came
suddenly down like a sheet from the sky.

Even before Mr Harvey could give the word we were letting fly
everything. The brig rushed on through the foaming seas. When I looked
aft, I could just distinguish the dark hull of the frigate rolling
helplessly from side to side, her masts gone by the board.

On we flew, soon losing sight of her altogether. Though our masts were
standing, our canvas, except the fore-topsail, was blown to ribbons.
The storm showed no signs of abating, for although there was a short
lull, the wind again blew as hard as ever. The thunder roared, the
lightning flashed from the clouds, and the night became pitchy dark.
The seas increased, and, as they came rolling up, threatened to poop us.

How long the gale might last it was impossible to say. Before it had
abated we might have run on the Irish coast. It would be wiser to heave
the brig to while there was time; but the question wag whether the
mainmast would stand. The fore-topsail was closely reefed, the helm was
put down; but as the vessel was coming up to the wind, a sea struck us,
a tremendous crash followed, the mainmast, as we had feared, went at the
place where it had been wounded, and, falling overboard, was dashed with
violence against the side, which it threatened every moment to stave in.

Mr Harvey, seizing an axe and calling on us to follow and assist in
clearing away the wreck before more damage was done, sprang forward. At
any moment the sea, striking the vessel, might sweep us off the deck.
With the energy almost of despair, we worked away with axes and knives,
and at length saw the mast drop clear of the side. While we were still
endeavouring to clear away the wreck of the mast, Mr Harvey had sent
one of the crew below to search for some more axes, as we had only three
among us. Just at this juncture he came on deck, exclaiming, in a voice
of alarm, "The water is rushing in like a mill sluice!"

"Then we must pump it out," cried Mr Harvey, "or try and stop it if we
can. Man the pumps!"

We had two each, worked by a couple of hands, and we began labouring
away, knowing that our lives might depend upon our exertions.

The brig lay to more easily than I should have supposed possible, though
we were still exposed to the