'Sprung it is, by heavens!' he exclaimed. 'Take in sail—away aloft to the cap with the top-maul, out with the fid, stand by the mast-rope, and lower away the topmast.'
Three active fellows were soon up at the cross-trees. A stroke or two of the maul knocked out the square bar (with a shoulder at one end) that supported the weight of the topmast, which quickly slid down in front of the foremast through its upper and lower cap, and was at once made fast.
This eased alike the cutter and the mast, but it was necessary to put her before the wind, and run up the river again, as it would have been rashness to venture into the North Sea with a crippled mast. The storm had nearly spent itself, but thunder could still be heard in the distance between the lulls of the wind.
So the Flying Foam was once more running up the Elbe, to be repaired at Hamburg, with her topsail-yard down on the cap, her jib and staysail set, her fore and aft mainsail close reefed, and the boom so well eased off that its end skipped the waves at times as she rolled heavily before the wind.
At Cuxhaven another pilot, to take her up the river, came on board from the yacht, which, by their statutes, the inhabitants of that place are bound to have always at sea, or near the outermost buoy, to conduct any vessel requiring assistance; and, aided ere long by a tug-steamer, the Flying Foam, passing Altona in the night, when dawn came in again, was moored for repair in the outer portion of the Binnen Hafen, under the shadow of the lofty and wonderfully picturesque old houses of the Stubbenhuck.
And now, having recovered from his fear and tribulation. Sir Redmond Sleath began to consider in what way he could delude his luckless victim ashore.
CHAPTER IV.
ALONE!
In furtherance of his own cruel and nefarious schemes against Ellinor, Sir Redmond had forbidden the Vierlander attendant to inform her of where the yacht was now, and a few silver kassengelds effectually sealed her lips, while Ellinor, still confined to her little cabin, was prostrate in strength, and only thankful that the din of the storm had passed away, and the awful pitching and rolling of the cutter was at an end.
Dewsnap had fortified himself with so many potations of brandy and water during the last few hours that he was scarcely sober now, and swayed about on his feet swearing it was still 'the roll of the ship.'