Leaving orders to keep her “steady before it” the captain went forward to ascertain the extent of the damage they had sustained.  It was now intensely dark, the rain falling in torrents, and lightning bolts striking the water all around them, accompanied by fearful and incessant peals of thunder.  A human voice could not have been heard five paces away.  The wind, which fairly roared through the shrouds, and the deluge of water upon the deck, were enough of themselves to drown any voice.  By flashes of lightning, the captain soon ascertained that they were comparatively unharmed, and their spars were safe.  Gathering his frightened crew and officers about him, he succeeded at length in freeing the decks of water by knocking out the ports on either side.  They next sounded the pumps, and found three feet of water in the well.  Immediately double pumps were rigged, and the steady clinking of brakes added to the noises and terror of the scene.

It was a fearful night, and Captain Lane prayed Heaven that he might never see such another.

About half an hour after the squall first struck them—­the captain of the Ocean Star was standing with his two officers on the quarter-deck, “conning the vessel by the feel of the wind and rain,” keeping her dead before the gale—­when there came a flash and a peal which made them cower almost to the decks.

“My God!” was the simultaneous exclamation of all.  A long chain of lightning and a heavy ball of fire seemed to shoot from the sky, lighting up the whole sea, revealing, and at the same time striking, in its descent, a full-rigged brig, which, like themselves, was scudding before the gale under bare poles, a few cables’ length off their port beam.  The next instant, a fearful explosion, heard loud above the roaring storm, shook the sea, a volume of flame and fire shot up in the air, and when they looked again for the vessel, in the flashes of lightning, it was nowhere to be seen.

As the morning broke, the gale abated, and settled into a light breeze from the eastward.  They made all sail, and stood to the southward with the wind abeam, hoping to fall in with some survivors of the wreck.

Captain Lane changed his wet garments for something more comfortable, refreshed himself with a strong cup of coffee, and, taking his glass, sought the foretopsail yard.  About seven bells, he thought he discovered some object in the water three or four points off the lee bow.  Hailing the deck to keep off for it, he very soon made out fragments of a vessel—­spars, water casks, pieces of deck and, as they came still nearer, a boat; but the captain, even from his lofty perch, could see no sign of any one in it.

Descending to the deck, he ordered a boat to be cleared away, and, running as near as he dared to the wreck, he backed his maintopsail and took a long and earnest survey with his glass.

All hands were watching with anxious eyes the expression on the captain’s face.  He handed his glass to the mate, who carefully examined every fragment which appeared above water.  The captain looked at the mate inquiringly; but neither said a word.  The mate handed back the glass and shook his head sorrowfully.