In the alley-way he collided with the second mate, who, clad in dripping oilskins, was returning from his watch on deck.
Ere the two could disengage, a heavy list sent them both rolling against one of the starboard cabins, and, at the same time, Andy, who, unable to sleep, was on the point of making his way over to Ellerton's berth, stepped upon the writhing forms and promptly joined them on the floor of the alley-way.
A number of choice expressions in English and Spanish, drowned by the thunder of the "combers" on deck, arose from the struggling trio, till at length Ellerton disentangled himself and succeeded in pulling his chum from under the form of the second mate.
"Isn't it awful, this gale?" gasped Andy, whose right eye was rapidly closing from the effects of an accidental knock from the Peruvian's sea-boot.
"Yes, it's a bit thick," replied Ellerton, whose knuckles were bleeding through coming into contact with the brass tread of the cabin door. "But let's follow this chap up and get him to let us have a candle; then we can see what we are doing."
As he spoke, a vivid flash of lightning revealed the Peruvian, still in his wet oilskins, stretched at full length on his bunk, his head buried in the blankets. He was in a state of absolute funk!
A swinging candlestick was affixed to the bulkhead, and Ellerton was soon able to procure a light. Andy glanced at the barometer. The mercury stood at 715 millimetres (28.15 in.)—a fall of nearly an inch since six o'clock on the previous evening.
"Can't we go on deck?" asked Andy, as the San Martin slowly recovered from a dangerous list. "It's rotten being cooped up here."
"You would stand a jolly good chance of being swept overboard," replied Ellerton. "Everything is battened down, and we can only get out by the sliding hatch communicating with the——"
His words were interrupted by a succession of heavy thuds, plainly audible above the roar of the wind and waves, while the shouts of the frantic seamen showed that something had broken adrift.