Dr. Reikie got up now and gave himself a bit of a shake as a collie dog might have done. That was all his toilet.
"Paddy," he cried, "I forgot to ask you what about the specimens."
"I kaipt them for you, sorr, as safe as the apple av me eye. And here they are, sorr, if they're any use to you to bury the dead."
CHAPTER X.
THE AWFUL GALE—IN CAMP BEFORE SEBASTOPOL—LETTERS
FROM HOME.
Few, if any, of our Crimean heroes are likely to forget the terrible gale of hurricane force that came raging from the south on the fourteenth day of November.
Jack Mackenzie and Dr. Reikie were still stationed on shore, where they were to remain till the close of the war.
The Gurnet had been to Varna on special duty—luckily for her—and just one day at sea on her return voyage, when early in the morning it came on to blow. It was Sturdy's watch at the time, and even at six bells it was dark—dark, and dirty as well; and several times when the lieutenant looked at his watch by the glimmer of the binnacle lamp, he thought it must surely have stopped. It was cold too, bitterly cold; and though it had fallen calm about the middle watch, it now began to blow again, while a weight seemed to lie on the cloud-laden air that oppressed every one on board. The glass, too, boded no good; and not knowing what might happen, the lieutenant thought it his duty, even before calling Mr. Fitzgerald and his watch, to close-reef top-sails and set a storm-jib.
Hardly had he done so before the hurricane came down on the ship, with a force that for a time seemed to threaten her with destruction.
Sturdy himself could not remember ever being afloat in a more terrible storm. And the strength of it had come on with the suddenness of a white squall in the Indian Ocean. For a short time he tried to keep the course, but speedily found that the best thing he could do was to lie to. The Gurnet, however, was a strong little craft, and so long as there was plenty of sea-room neither Captain Gillespie nor his lieutenant feared anything.