ould be heard beyond the poop.

"Begorra, it's a risky game, puttin' sail on her, sorr," said Tim
meeting Mr Mackay half-way on the main-deck; "but we moight thry
lettin' out a schrap more av the fores'le, if the houl lot don't fetch
away."

"We must try it," returned Mr Mackay. "He will have it so."

"All right, sorr, I'm agreeayble, as the man aid whin he wor agoin' to
be hung," said Tim Rooney grinning, never taking anything serious for
very long; "faix I'll go up mesilf if I can't get none av the hands to
volunteer. I couldn't order 'em yet, sorr, for it's more'n a man's
loife is worth to get on a yard with this wind."

"Very good, Rooney, do your best," replied Mr Mackay. "Only don't run
into any danger. We can't afford to loose you, bo'sun."

"Troth I'll take care av that same, sorr," returned Tim with a laugh.
"I wants another jollification ashore afore I'd be after losin' the
noomber av me mess."

I had come down from off the poop with Mr Mackay, and now, standing by
his side, watched with anxiety Tim's movements.

He had no lack of volunteers, however, for the ticklish work of laying
out on the yard, Joe Fergusson's previous example having inspired
whatever pluck was previously wanting; and, almost as soon as he got
forward we saw several of the hands mounting the fore rigging on the
starboard side--this being the least dangerous, as there was no chance
of their being blown into the sea against the wind.

But Tim Rooney would not suffer them to go aloft alone, his stalwart
figure being the first to be seen leading the way up the shrouds, with
Joe Fergusson close behind, not satisfied apparently with his previous
attempt; and both, I noticed in the moonlight, which just then streamed
out full for a few minutes, had their jack-knives between their teeth,
ready for any emergency, as well as to cut away the double lashings of
the foresail, "sea-gaskets" having been laced over the regular ones so
as to bind the sail tighter to the yard.

As they went up, the crew were flattened like pancakes against the
ratlines; and Mr Mackay and I held our breath when they got on the
foot-rope from the shrouds, holding on to the yard and jack-stay, with
the wind swaying them to and fro in the most perilous manner. Tim
Rooney especially seemed in the most dangerous position, as he made for
the lee earing, whence he might be swept off in an instant into the
foaming waves that spurted up from the chains as if clutching