ed to close-reef the mizzen-topsail; but the main-topsail,
which was more difficult to manage, was still bulging out above the
yard, the hands on which it threatened every instant to strike off, as
the ship, with desperate force, kept plunging her bows into the opposing
seas.

"Come, bear a hand with that main-topsail there," exclaimed Mr Stunt
through his speaking-trumpet, "or--"

What he was going to say I know not, for at that instant there arose the
fearful cry of "A man overboard!--a man overboard!"

It sounded like the knell of a fellow-being. Captain Gierstien was on
deck. I was near him.

"If I lower a boat I shall lose some other brave fellows," he exclaimed
aloud, though he was speaking to himself.

"We'll gladly risk our lives to save him, sir," cried two or three who
were near him; "it's O'Connor--it's Terry O'Connor!"

"So would I," escaped from my lips. I had at all events intended to
have volunteered to go in the boat.

"Down with the helm! Back the main-topsail!" exclaimed the captain in
the same breath. "Stand by to lower a boat; but hold fast. Can any of
you see or hear him?" The ship was hove to, and all hands stood peering
into the loom and trying to catch a sound of a voice. O'Connor was a
first-rate swimmer, and he was not a man to yield to death without a
struggle--that we knew.

It must be understood that, though several sentences were spoken, not
thirty seconds had elapsed after he had struck the water before the
order to heave the ship to was given. She was also going but slowly
through the water, though, from the way she was tumbling about, a
landsman might have supposed she was moving at a great rate.

"Does any one see him?" asked the captain. Alas in that dark night even
the sharpest eyes on board could not discern so small an object as a
man's head floating amid those troubled waters.

"Does any one see him?" There was a dead silence. The hopelessness of
the case struck a chill through all our hearts. Two minutes--three--
passed away. We continued from all parts of the ship peering into the
darkness--some to windward, others to leeward, and others a stern. Now
I thought I saw something, but it was the dark top of a wave under the
glistening foam. Five minutes had elapsed since the accident. Long
before this the ship must have left him far astern, and he must have
sunk beneath those heavy waves. Such was the feeling gaining possession
of many.

Again the capt