CHAPTER XII.
HOPE REVIVED.
The wind had now increased to a hurricane; it had veered to the south-west, and had attained a velocity little short of ninety miles an hour. On land, the most substantial of erections could with difficulty have withstood its violence, and a vessel anchored in a roadstead must have been torn from its moorings and cast ashore. The memorable storm that had devastated the Island of Guadaloupe on the 25th of July, 1825, when heavy cannon were lifted from their carriages, could scarcely have been more furious, and it was only her mobility before the blast and the solidity of her structure that gave the "Pilgrim" a hope of surviving the tempest.
A few minutes after the topsail had been lost, the small jib was carried away. Dick Sands contemplated the possibility of throwing out a storm-jib, made of extra strong canvas, as a means of bringing the ship a little more under his control, but abandoned the idea as useless. It was, therefore, under bare poles that the "Pilgrim" was driven along; but in spite of the lack of canvas, the hull, masts, and rigging, gave sufficient purchase to the wind, and the progress of the schooner was prodigiously rapid; sometimes, indeed, she seemed to be literally lifted from the water, and scudded on, scarcely skimming its surface. The rolling was fearful. Enormous waves followed in quick succession, and as they travelled faster than the ship, there was the perpetual risk of one of them catching her astern. Without sail, there were no means of escaping that peril by increase of speed; the adroit management of the helm was the only chance of avoiding the hazardous shocks, and even this repeatedly failed.
To prevent his being washed overboard Dick lashed himself to his place at the wheel by a rope round his waist, and made Tom and Bat keep close at hand, ready to give him assistance, in case of emergency. Hercules and Actæon, clinging to the bitt, kept watch at the bow. Mrs. Weldon and her party, at Dick's special request, remained inside the stern cabin, although the lady, for her own part, would much rather have stayed on deck; she had, however, yielded to the representation that she would thus be exposing herself to unnecessary danger.
The hatchways were hermetically closed, and it was to be hoped that they would withstand the heavy sea that was dashing over them; only let one of them give way to the pressure, and the vessel must inevitably fill and founder. It was a matter of congratulation that the stowage had been done very carefully, so that notwithstanding all the lurchings of the ship, the cargo did not shift in the least.
The heroic young commander had still further curtailed his periods of rest, and it was only at the urgent entreaty of Mrs. Weldon, who feared that he would exhaust himself by his vigilance, that he was induced to lie down for a few hours' sleep on the night of the 13th.
After Tom and Bat had been left alone at the wheel they were, somewhat to their surprise, joined by Negoro, who very rarely came aft. He seemed inclined to enter into conversation, but found little encouragement to talk on the part either of Tom or his son. All at once a violent roll of the ship threw him off his feet, and he would have gone overboard if he had not been saved by falling against the binnacle.
Old Tom was in a frantic state of alarm lest the compass should be broken. He uttered a cry of consternation so loud that it roused Dick from the light slumber into which he had fallen in the cabin, and he rushed to the deck. By the time he had reached the stern, Negoro had not only regained his feet, but had managed successfully to conceal
[Illustration: Quick as lightning, Dick Sands drew a revolver from his pocket.]