“I only stopped up to see the storm,” I said. “Mr Marline saw me on deck some time since and said I might remain.”
“Did he? Well, then, it’s all over now, and there’ll be nothing fresh till morning; so you can go below like a brace of shakes.”
With these words, he hustled me off the poop, good-naturedly, not losing sight of me until he had seen me go down the ladder and into the cabin—much against my inclination, I must confess, as I wanted to see all that was going on.
Of course, as I had to go down, there was no use in my not turning in when I got there; but I stayed awake for a long time, listening to the thumping of the sea against the sides of the ship and the creaking of the timbers; while my cot swayed to and fro, hoisting me up to the deck planking one second, and then almost capsizing me on to the floor, until I at last sank to rest, wearied out with the motion and longing for the morning to come.
Harry, the steward, awakened me quite late.
“Here, you sah, Mass’ Tom, rouse up!” he sang out close to my ears, making me jump out of my bunk in a brace of shakes. “It am gone eight bells an’ break-fuss ready long time.”
Captain Miles had already had his early meal, I found, when I had dressed and got out into the cabin saloon; so, after making a hurried repast, for I was anxious to see how the ship was getting on, I followed him on deck.
The sea looked awful!
Far and wide, it was covered with broken waves and sheets of foam, the huge billows fighting and struggling together in mad turmoil; while the wind shrieked as it tore through the vessel’s cordage and almost blew me back as I essayed to mount up the poop-ladder.
The Josephine was still plunging on before the gale, as I had last seen her the night before, only that the mainsail had been torn away, although the tattered fragments were left clinging round the yard-arms, one or two longer pieces streaming out like pennants from the leech at each end of the spar, and some other strips had clung to the fore-rigging as they were blown away.