"I ain't a coward," retorted Jack. "I enlisted to fight, not to go to sea and be drowned."
"Drownded—ded—ded—dead!" said Tucket.
"O, yes," said Harris, "you are mighty fierce for getting ashore and fighting. But when you were on land you were just as glad to get to sea. Now I hope you'll get enough of it. I wouldn't mind a shipwreck myself, just to hear you scream."
Then Tucket: "'At first one universal shriek there rushed, louder than the loud ocean,—like a crash of echoing thunder; and then all was hushed, save the wild wind, and the remorseless dash of billows; but at intervals there gushed, accompanied with a convulsive splash, a solitary shriek—the babbling cry of private Winch, in his last agony!'"
After this, conversation ceased for a time, and there was no noise but of the storm, and the groanings of the ship and of the sick.
Frank could not sleep, but, clinging to his berth, and listening to the shock of billows, thought of the other vessels of that brave fleet, scattered and tossed, and wondered at the awful power of the sea.
Then he remembered the story Corporal Gray had that day told them of the great Spanish Armada, which sailed in the days of Queen Elizabeth to invade England, and was blown to its destruction by the storms of the Almighty; and he questioned within himself whether this proud expedition was destined for a similar fate. Already he seemed to hear the lamentations of those at home, and the frantic rejoicings of the rebels.
The next morning the wind lulled; but the sea still ran high. The sun rose upon a scene of awful grandeur. The schooner was sailing under the few rags of canvas which had withstood the gale. The steamer was nowhere in sight; but other vessels of the shattered fleet could be seen, some near, and some half below the horizon, far out at sea. The waves, white-capped, green-streaked, ceaselessly shifting, with dark blue hollows and high-curved crests all bursting into foam, came chasing each other, and passed on like sliding liquid hills, spurning the schooner from their slippery backs.
"'Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean! roll! ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain!'" observed Tucket, coming on deck with Frank, and gazing around at the few tossed remnants of the storm-scattered expedition.
Wild and terribly beautiful the scene was; and Frank, who had often wished to behold the ocean in its fury, was now sufficiently recovered from his sickness to enjoy the opportunity. Nor was the wondering delight with which he saw the sun rise out of the deep, and shine across the tumbling yeasty waves, at all diminished by the drolleries of his friend Seth, who kept at his side, saying the queerest things, and ever and anon shouting poetry to the running seas.