We struggled on and on in the gloom, with the hurricane roaring over us, carrying the spray and drift in a smothering storm into our faces.  A hand would slip with a wet grip only to take a fresh hold again, and strain away to get the other under.

We rolled with the ship and after a particularly hard rally, in which I had my hand badly bitten, we eased up near the edge of the forecastle head.  During this breathing spell I managed to get my foot braced against a ring-bolt.  This gave me a slight advantage for a sudden push.  In an instant I shoved with all my might, driving us both to the edge.  The ruffian saw what was coming and tried to turn, but it was too late.  One single instant of frantic fighting, half suspended in the air, and then over we went, myself on top.

We landed heavily upon the main deck, and the shock, falling even as I did upon the body under me, stunned me for several moments.  My captain lay motionless.  Then, when a sudden rush of cool water poured over us, I came to my senses and started to my feet.  In another moment I had passed a line around the desperado, and was dragging him under the lee of the windlass, where I finally made him fast to the bitts.

When I started aft again, I found that Trunnell had managed to get a tarpaulin into the mizzen rigging, and by the aid of this bit of canvas the Pirate had at last headed the sea within five points.  It now took her forward of the beam and hove her down to her bearings with each roll to leeward, the sea breaking heavily across the main deck, keeping the waterways waist deep with the white surge.  In this rush objects showed darkly where they floated from their fastenings until they drifted to a water-port and passed on overboard.

I finally managed to dodge the seas enough to get aft alive, though one caught me under the lee of the fore rigging and nigh smothered me as it poured over the topgallant rail.

Trunnell stood near the break of the poop, and beside him were the skipper and third mate.  I noticed a look of surprise come upon the young officer’s face when I came close to them.  It was much lighter now, and the actions of this young fellow interested me.

“I thought you might have been drowned,” he cried, in his high female voice, but with a significant tone and look at the last word which was not lost on me in spite of the elements.

“Everything is all snug forward,” I answered, bawling at the captain, but looking fairly at the third mate.  “You can let a few men go and rivet irons on the convict by the windlass bitts.  He seems to have little trouble unlocking these.”  And I held up the unlocked irons I had picked up under the forecastle.

As I held the irons under the third officer’s nose, he drew back.  Then he took them and flung them with an impatient gesture over the side into the sea.  I thought I heard a fierce oath in a deep voice near by, but Trunnell and the captain were both staring up at the fringe flying from the maintopsail yard, and had evidently said nothing.  There was little more to do now, for as long as the ship held her head to the sea, she would probably ride it out, unless some accident happened.