his crew
remained on deck until dawn of day, when the violence of the gale seemed
to have abated.

Courtenay desired Seymour and Jerry to turn in, and relieve him at eight
o'clock. Our hero and Jerry went down into the cabin, where they found
the two passengers, who, although they had not come on deck during the
night, had not retired to bed. Peter was sitting up to windward on the
locker, looking very pale and very sea-sick. Paul was on the
cabin-floor, with one hand holding on by the leg of the table, and a
bottle of brandy in the other. His prayer-book he had abandoned during
a fright, and it was washing about in the lee-scuppers. Jerry was
delighted, but put on a rueful face.

"Well," observed Paul, who was nearly frightened out of his wits, "how
is it now?"

"Worse and worse," replied Jerry; "there's nine inches water in the
well."

"Oh, my God!" cried Paul, who was not very _au fait_ at nautical
technicalities,--raising one eye up to heaven, while the other appeared
to rest upon the bottle of brandy.

"But why don't you turn in?" said Jerry: "we can go to the bottom just
as comfortably in bed as anywhere else."

"I agree with you," replied Peter, who had often been at sea, and knew
very well that all was right, by the two midshipmen coming off deck.
"My mother prophesied that I never should die in my bed; but I'm
determined that I will."

"You had better turn in, Mr Paul," said Seymour, kindly; "I'll ring for
the steward."

Billy Pitt made his appearance. "By gad, gentlemen, the damned schooner
under water."

"Under water!" cried Paul, with dismay. The bottle was applied to his
mouth, as if he was determined to leave as little room as possible for
the element which he expected instantaneously to be struggling in.

With the assistance of Billy, Paul was placed in one of the standing
bed-places at the side of the cabin. Jerry put his brandy-bottle at the
side of his pillow--kindly informing him that he would have an
opportunity of taking a few more swigs before he went down, for the
water was only up to her bends at present. Peter was already in the cot
next to him, and Seymour and Jerry turned in, without taking off their
clothes, in Courtenay's bed on the other side of the cabin. Before they
had fallen asleep, they heard Paul cry out, "Peter! Peter!"

"Well, what do you want?"

"Do you think there are any hopes?"

Peter, who wished to frighten his companion, replied gravely--"I am
afr