“’Then we shall only have to keep a good lookout, and if it blows, let it blow.  Give the watches strict orders not to lose the Ellen, Mr. Kelson.’

“’Ay, ay, sir!  The Lord grant it isn’t a cyclone!  I don’t like ’em.’

“It was about nine o’clock that night that I heard a light ripple against the ship’s side, and a moment after the creaking of the yards as the rising breeze moved them slightly.  I at once went on deck, and my first glance showed me how fortunate I was in having such a first officer as Kelson.  The night was as black as pitch:  the wind came in little puffs and flaws, and then for a moment would die away altogether.  There was a low, ominous murmur in the distance like the sighing of a pine forest, and now and then the faint muttering of thunder.  Suddenly there was a sharp, jagged flash which seemed to run halfway round the horizon, followed instantly by a rattling peal like a running fire of field-pieces.  A silence and a stillness followed this opening overture like that of the valley of death.  I sprang to the pilot-house and seized the wheel, for I knew everything would depend upon that, but as yet there was neither lee nor weather side, for it was impossible to guess from what quarter the wind would strike us.  There was a brief period of suspense, which seemed to me an hour long, the dead silence broken only by the cheery ring of Kelson’s voice giving his orders with a promptness and decision which was sweet music to my ears.  A moment more and the whole sky was one blaze of dazzling light; in a second of time I saw with almost supernatural distinctness every rope and spar, every brace and shroud of the ship; I saw the illimitable black expanse of water on the port side, and the Ellen, a mile distant on the starboard bow, her outlines as sharply defined as in a silhouette; I saw the figures of men ascending her shrouds, and with utter amazement I saw that her topsails were set.  But as I glanced away from her I saw a dark wall of water on our starboard beam, crested with glittering foam and twenty feet or more in height, bearing right down upon us.

“‘Hard a-lee!’ came the voice of Kelson, drowned in a crash of thunder which words are powerless to describe, and as the good ship swung round responsive to the touch of her helm, all was again Egyptian darkness, and the wind rushed upon us with the howl and roar of a thousand hungry wild beasts.  The Ariadne answered her helm like a tender-mouthed colt, but she was not quick enough for the enormous sea which the next moment broke on her starboard quarter.  The decks were deluged with water, which must have swamped the ship had not every hatch been securely battened; the starboard quarter-boat was crushed like an egg-shell, and swept from her davits with the wreck of the bulwarks, which were stove in like a cigar-box; the masts bent like reeds and quivered to the keelson, and the strong mizzen storm-staysails burst with the report of a twelve-pounder.