A TYPHOON.

At five o'clock next morning, being unable to bear the closeness of my cabin any longer, I dressed myself and went on deck. To my surprise the schooner was stationary, and wrapped in as dense a fog as ever I remember to have seen. So still was the air that every sail hung limp and motionless, and so thick the fog that, when I emerged from the companion hatch, I could hardly distinguish the bulwarks on either side. It was the intense quiet, however, that was at once the most mysterious and the impressive part of the scene. The steady drip of the moisture on the deck, and now and again the faint lip-lap of a wavelet against the side, the creaking of a block in the rigging above my head, or the subdued tones of a man's voice coming from the forrard of the foremast were all the sounds that I could hear. It was most depressing; so, for the sake of companionship, I fumbled my way over to the starboard bulwark, and, having found it, ran it along to the bridge, where I almost fell into some person's arms. The fog here was so thick that I could not see his face, so I inquired his name.

"Walworth," was the reply, "and from your voice you should be Dr. De Normanville."

"Quite right," I answered. "But what a fog this is, to be sure! How long have we been in it?"

"Very nearly three hours," he replied. "It's most unfortunate. By the way, I want to ask a favour of you on her ladyship's account. We are going to bury that poor beggar Ebbington in half an hour. Will you conduct the service?"

"Did her ladyship tell you to ask me?"

He answered in the affirmative.

"Then if it is her desire of course I will do so," I replied, "though I must own I do not very much look forward to the task."

He thanked me and went below to give the necessary instructions. I waited about, and in half an hour the body was brought on deck, neatly sewn up in a hammock, and covered with a plain white ensign by way of a pall. Though we could hardly see each other, or the bier, we took our place at the gangway, and I at once began to read the beautiful service for the burial of the dead at sea. When I arrived at the place where it is instructed that the body shall be cast into the deep, I gave a signal, and the stretcher was tilted, so that the hammock and its grim contents slid off it and fell with a sullen splash into the water alongside. Just as it disappeared a curious thing happened.

The body could hardly have touched the water before the fog was lifted, as though by some giant hand, and the sun shone brilliantly forth. The transition from the obscurity of semi-darkness to bright sunshine was quite dazzling, and set us all blinking like so many owls. Then I saw every face turn suddenly in one direction, and as they did so every mouth went down. Next moment the officer of the watch had bounded to the engine-room telegraph, there was a confused ringing of bells in the bowels of the ship, and before a minute could have elapsed we were under weigh once more.