aid the old seaman, rising, and in his heavy
leggings, waterproof, and broad sou'-wester, clumping up the companion
into the rough night; and when the clear ring of the brig's bell came
from the forecastle, striking eight times, the cabin was empty, and a
solitary lamp shed a feeble light as it swayed to and fro, the brig
pitching heavily, her timbers groaning and creaking, the gale roaring
over her decks, and moaning through her rigging.

Towards midnight, Captain Weber and his mate came below, the steward
mixing for them two stiff glasses of grog.

"How's the barometer, sir?" asked the mate, as he passed the sleeve of
his coat over his mouth, after having taken a good pull at the steaming
liquor.

Captain Weber stepped into his own cabin, remained some minutes, and
then came out again, looking very grave.

"We have not had the worst of it yet," he replied; "the mercury has
fallen since four bells struck."

The chart was placed on the table, and the ship's position verified.

"There's nothing for it, Lowe," said the captain, "with a falling glass,
a lee shore, and a heavy gale, there's nothing else for it. Heave the
brig to until morning."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the officer, rising, and draining the last drop
in the tumbler, "it's a good moment too, for there seems a lull."

The mate went on deck, leaving Captain Weber poring over the chart. His
broad-brimmed sou'-wester lay on the table, his coat was open, the wet
dropping from it, and his grey hair was dripping with salt brine.

A momentary bustle on deck was heard. A noise of trampling feet, and a
few hoarse words of command. A heavy sea struck the ship, flooding her
decks; a cabin-door opened, and the steward was called; but still
Captain Weber remained poring over his chart. Hours passed by, and at
last the anxious man rose, and went into his own cabin once more. His
face was very grave when he came out, for the mercury in the barometer
had again fallen, and it now stood so low as to foretell a hurricane.

Morning broke slowly over an ocean whose long, green, angry looking
waves were lashed into boiling foam. Not a sail was in sight, but the
thin haze hung over the sea. The brig was doing her best, hove-to,
under a closely reefed make shift main-topsail, and fore and
main-staysails, the gale, if anything, having diminished in fury.

"It is a grand sight, Isabel," said Hughes, as towards ten o'clock the
whole party stood on the quarter-deck, lo