ome
ugly clouds gathering, and I shouldn't be surprised if we had a rough
night of it in the Bay. What would you say, Gipsy, if we had the fiddles
on the table at dinner?"

"Those queer racks to keep the plates from slipping about? Oh, I'd love
to see them on! I've never been in a big storm. The wind may just blow,
and blow, and blow to-night. The old sailor who sits on the top of the
North Pole can untie all the four knots in his handkerchief if he
likes."

"Don't wish for too much. One knot will be quite sufficient for us if
we're to get across the Bay in comfort. You'll tell a different tale by
to-morrow morning, I expect."

As the captain had prophesied, the dark clouds gathered quickly, and
brought both a squall and a shower. The vessel was entering the Bay of
Biscay, and that famous stretch of water was already beginning to
justify its bad reputation. Gipsy had the satisfaction, not only of
seeing the racks used at dinner, but of witnessing half the contents of
her plate whirled across the table by a sudden lurch of the ship. The
rolling was so violent that she could not cross the cabin without
holding tightly to solid objects of furniture.

"I'm afraid we're going to have a terrible tossing," said Mr. Latimer,
as he bade Gipsy good night. "Mind you don't get pitched out of your
bunk. We're having bad weather with a vengeance now."

"The old sailor on the North Pole has untied all four knots," said Gipsy
to herself, as she lay awake listening to the blowing of the gale. It
was indeed a fearful storm. The vessel was tossed about like a cork: one
moment her bows would be plumped deep in the water, and her stern lifted
in mid-air, with the whirling screw making a deafening noise overhead;
then all would be reversed, and the timbers seemed to shiver with the
effort the ship made to right herself.

Gipsy found it impossible to sleep when her heels were continually being
raised higher than her head, and sometimes a sudden roll would threaten
to fling her even over the high wooden side of her berth. Everything in
the cabin had fallen to the floor, and her boots, clothes, hairbrush,
books, and indeed all her possessions were chasing one another backwards
and forwards with each lurch of the vessel. The noise was terrific: the
howling of the wind and the roaring of the waves were augmented by the
creaking of timbers, the clanking of chains, and an occasional crashing
sound that appeared to come from below, where the