“What says the look-out-man, mate?” he asked of the latter, who came up the steps at this moment from taking a turn forward.

“Black as pitch.  If we stuck a lantern out on the flying jib-boom, we should see that far at any rate.  But the lead gives deep water.”

“Does it?” was the rather scornful rejoinder.

“The blockhead doesn’t seem to know yet,” growled the captain, as the other turned away, “that the lead will give you deep water here until your vessel has her nose upon the cliff.”

There was no chance of a pilot on such a night as this promised to be; but still, in the hope that the wind might carry the sound in under land, a few shots were fired from the signal-gun.

At last there was no longer any choice left.  If they were not to end upon the rocks that night, they must crowd on more sail, and try at all hazards to haul off the coast.

The order was accordingly given to shake a reef out, followed by “Haul in the topsail bow-lines—­clap on the topsail halyards, and hoist away!” and in the darkness might be heard occasionally “halimen-oh!-oh hoi!” as the sailors worked at the tough and heavy sail, with the cordage all stiff and swollen with ice and slippery with the rain, the spray driving in their faces, and the vessel rolling so that sometimes they were hanging on by the ropes only, when the deck went from under their feet.

Under the fresh weight of sail the vessel careened over, and shot foaming forward with new life for a moment.  The next, the topsail had burst away from the bolt-ropes with a report as of a cannon-shot, and she had fallen away into the trough of the sea.  The mainstay-sail sheet parted at the same time, and a deluge of water carried overboard, with part of the bulwarks, a large portion of the deck cargo, which consisted of heavy timber, leaving the remainder tossed about in the wildest confusion, and much of it standing on end against the railings and capstan.

It was some time before she could be brought up in the wind again, and the old Juno had then to go through a trial such as her joints even in her younger days had never been equal to.  She was like many another vessel that is a good sailor enough, a little broken-backed from the weight of the cargo amidships; and as she gave to the strain, the ladder that stood in the hold began to saw up and down in the coaming forward, while the water came oozing in through the staring bow timbers, and the pumps had to be kept continually going.  The hatches were all battened down, and many of the crew had lashed themselves to the lower rigging as preferable now to the deck.

“Ready about!—­tacks and sheets!” &c.; “luff now, and keep her close to the wind!”—­the same monotonous words of command all through the night every time they lay over upon a new tack, while at the same time they would generally ship a heavy sea, and the vessel would shake through all her frame.