professor’s head.
“I can’t move,” replied he.
“Mr. Gage will help you,” added the lieutenant.
The carpenter assisted Mr. Hamblin to the companion-way, while the boatswain had succeeded in rolling Mr. Stoute up to the same point. The doors were opened, and the head steward helped them down the ladder.
“All ready!” shouted Captain Kendall, when the favorable moment came for setting the foresail.
“Let go the brails!” bellowed the executive officer. “Haul out!”
The ready seaman promptly obeyed the order, at the instant when the vessel, having rolled over as far as her centre of gravity would permit her to go in the trough of the sea, was poised as it were on a balance, waiting for the recoil of the wave that was to throw her down on the weather roll. The close-reefed foresail flew out from the brails, and began to thresh tremendously in the fierce blast.
“Slack the weather vang!” continued Terrill to the hands who had been stationed at this rope. “Walk away with the sheet!”
It required a tremendous pull to haul home the sheet of the foresail, banging furiously in the tempest; but there was force enough to accomplish it, though not till the vessel had made her weather roll, which lifted half the line of seamen from their feet. The close-reefed foresail was trimmed so as to lay the schooner to with her head up to the sea. The billows were increasing in volume so fearfully that it was no longer prudent to permit the vessel to roll in the trough of the sea, where she was in danger of being overwhelmed by the combing waves.
“Mind your helm, Blair!” called the first lieutenant, springing aft to the wheel. “Port a little! Don’t let the sail be taken aback!”
The head of the Josephine came up handsomely to the sea, and it was thus proved that the double-reefed foresail was just the sail for such an emergency. It was only to be demonstrated whether the sail would be blown out of the bolt-ropes or not. If it had been an old one, such would probably have been its fate; but being nearly new, and of the best material, it stood the strain to the end.
“Mind your eye, Blair!” roared Terrill. “Starboard!”
“Starboard, sir!” replied the quartermaster.
“Touch her up when it comes so heavy,” added the lieutenant.
The vessel had fallen off, and took the wind so far on the beam that she buried her scuppers deep in the waves. The order to “touch her up,” or luff her up into the wind, so as partially to spill the sail, was given to ease off the tremendous pressure. The Josephine minded her helm, and luffed so that she righted herself.
“Steady, Blair!” called the lieutenant. “Port! Not too much, or you’ll broach her to!”
“Sail ho!” suddenly shouted several of the seamen in the forward part of the vessel.
“Where away?”
“Right over the lee bow! She has capsized!”
Paul and Terrill ran to the rail, and discovered a small vessel, lying over on her beam ends.
“That’s a Dutch galiot!” exclaimed Cleats, who promptly recognized the craft. “That’s a trick they have of turning bottom upwards.”
“Port!” shouted Terrill, who did not take his eye off the foresail of the Josephine for more than an instant at a time.
The attention of the quartermaster and the helmsman had been attracted by the announcement of the wreck, and they had permitted the Josephine to luff up until the foresail began to shake. The atmosphere was so thick that the galiot was seen but for an instant, and it then disappeared in the dense mists. Captain Kendall trembled with emotion when he saw the disabled vessel; but it was impossible to do anything for her until the hurricane subsided.
Fortunately the worst of it had already passed, and a few moments later it ceased almost as suddenly as it commenced. The rain began to fall in torrents, while a fresh breeze and a tremendous sea were all that remained of the hurricane—for such it was, rather than an ordinary squall.
“Set the jib and mainsail, Mr. Terrill,” said Captain Kendall. “We must endeavor to find that wreck.”
These sails were accordingly hoisted, the Josephine came about, and stood off in the direction towards which the galiot was supposed to have drifted. The Young America had not been seen since the squall came up; but Paul conjectured that she had run away before it. He was deeply interested in the fate of those on board of the wreck, and trusted he should be able to render them some assistance, if all on board of her had not already perished.
The rain poured down furiously; but it did not dampen the enthusiasm of the young officers and crew, though they were already drenched to the skin. The reefed foresail was taken in, for it was found that the jib and mainsail were all the schooner needed. She stood on for an hour or more, without obtaining a sight of the wreck, though every eye on board was strained to catch the first glimpse of it.
“We must have passed her,” said the captain.
“It is so thick we can’t see her, even if we should go within half a mile of her.”
“Come about, and stand a little more to the southward!” added Captain Kendall. “Let the fog-horns be blown. We may get a signal of some kind from them.”
“I am afraid they were lost overboard; and that there is no one left to make a signal,” answered Terrill, sadly.
The vessel was put about, and headed as indicated by the captain. The fog-horns were blown at intervals, and every one on board listened eagerly for a reply. These efforts were not unavailing, for a response was obtained after the Josephine had run half an hour on her present course. A hoarse shout was heard on the weather beam, which was unmistakably a cry of distress.
“Steady as she is!” said Paul to the executive officer, as soon as the sounds were reported to him, and the direction from which they came.
“Are you not going about, Captain Kendall?” asked Terrill, with a look of anxiety on his dripping face.
“Certainly; but if we go about here, we should fall to leeward of the wreck,” replied Paul.
The Josephine stood on for a few moments longer, and then tacked.
“Blow the horns, and keep a sharp lookout forward,” added the captain, who was quite as anxious as any other person on board; but he kept apparently cool, in deference to the dignity of his high office.
“I see her!” shouted Wheeler, the boatswain, who had gone out on the flying jib-boom.
“Where away is she?” demanded Martyn, from the forecastle.
“Well on the lee bow, sir.”
“Are we headed for her?”
“Ay, ay, sir! We shall go clear of her to windward.”
“Wreck on the lee bow, sir,” reported the second lieutenant to Terrill, who in turn reported to the captain.
“Clear away the first cutter, Mr. Terrill,”
