The blessed candles burned and sputtered merrily; the bushy-whiskered and grim-visaged timoniere hitched up his cotton breeches, twitched down the net which confined his long black hair. and grasped the helm in confident silence. But harder blew the wind: it roared through the rigging, and the Santelmo was soon flying through the rolling sea, stripped of half her canvass.
The mate slung himself from the spritsail yard; and, when endeavouring to place a candle in the hand of the image on the cutwater, dropped overboard, and (poor fellow!) was seen no more. The sailors now became excited.
"Clew up the fore-topsail—in with the forestaysail! Saints and devils! be quick, will you!" yelled Maltei, through his speaking-trumpet. "Close reef the foresail, and take in everything else fore and aft. Per Baccho!—Our blessed Lady!—Devil in hell! Look sharp, will ye!—Quick, there, or I will shoot the last man off the deck. Away, aloft, while ye can get out on the yard!" But not a man would venture, and Maltei might as well have roared to the wind.
"Corpo! you blundering asses, let all go by the sheets, then. Apostles and angels! Quick, cowards!—let fly, or the masts will go by the board."
The order was obeyed: the cordage rattled, the blocks shrieked; the canvass flew to leeward, split to ribbons, which crackled and lashed the rigging, as they flapped on the furious wind: but we escaped a capsize, and the schooner skimmed along under her close-reefed foresail; while Maltei took the tiller and strove to keep her to her course, swearing and praying by turns.
The loss of the mate and the increasing tempest rendered all gloomy and discontented. Anon, there was a cry. I instinctively grasped the bulwarks. A tremendous sea was shipped; it swept over the whole deck, washing three sailors, the long boat, all the spare booms and spars, overboard: also the binnacle, with the compass and—horror of horrors!—the three miraculous candles; which were extinguished in an instant.
A howl of dismay burst from the Maltese, who from that time seemed to abandon all hope and exertion. For a moment the schooner staggered and stood still: had such another sea burst over her she must have foundered; but saved by her buoyancy, as the water ran off her deck, she again plunged forward on her perilous path. A groan burst from Maltei on beholding the candles washed overboard: he quitted the helm and abandoned the schooner to her fate.
"Signor Maltei—Padrone di Vascello—madman and blockhead!" I exclaimed, rushing towards the tiller, which snapped its ropes and was dashed to pieces in an instant. The Santelmo fell away round, and yawing from side to side, flew at a fearful rate before the wind. There was a crash! the foremast went by the board, bringing the maintopmast down with it; the wreck fell to leeward, and was swept away astern; while the vessel lay a helpless log upon the sea, tossing about like a cork, and exposed continually to the waves, which hurried on in successive mountains as if to overwhelm the shattered ship, rolling with fury over the deck, and burying her far into the deep dark trough of the midnight sea. A torrent of water pouring down the companion-hatch filled the cabin; others succeeded: the vessel became water-logged, and the wood lumber in her hold alone prevented her from sinking.
"Holy Saint Elmo! blessed Madonna! and O Thou, who walked on the waters—who said to the storm 'Be still,' and it was still—look upon us!" cried the survivors of the crew.
"Master Maltei," said I, bitterly, "you have thrown away your vessel, and the lives of all on board, by your despicable ignorance and want of seamanship. Your crew are cowards, and unworthy to sail under a British flag!" He made no reply; but, sunk in gloomy apathy, remained lashed to the capstan, while I secured myself similarly to the windlass: from stem to stern the bulwarks were totally gone, save a fragment which afforded me shelter at the bow.