At that moment, as if to bear out this gloomy prophecy, the boatswain's hoarse call was heard:
"Stand by topsail sheets and halyards! Man the down-hauls! Clear away, and make all snug!"
Instantly all was bustle and activity. While some stripped the yards and clewed up the sails, others battened down the hatches, looked to the lashings of the boats, and made everything fast. Still, though he strained his eyes to the utmost, not the least sign of a storm could Frank see, and at last he whispered to Herrick,
"How can they tell that it's going to be rough?"
"The glass is falling, lad, and that's always enough for a sailor; but there'll be more'n that afore long. Ay, sure enough—see yonder!"
A streak of pale phosphorescent mist had just appeared on the port bow, which spread and spread till it blotted out sea and sky, and all was one dim, impenetrable pall. From the far distance came a strange, ghostly whisper, while the sea-birds, which had hitherto kept close to the vessel, flew away with dismal shrieks.
"Below there!" roared the boatswain. "Tumble up there, smart!"
Up flew the men, each darting at once to his own post—and not an instant too soon. A huge white cloud seemed to leap upward through the inky sky like smoke from a cannon, a long line of foam glanced like a lightning flash across the dark sea, and then came a rush and a roar, and over went the ship on her beam ends, and every man on board was blinded, deafened, and strangled, all in one moment, while crash followed crash, as doors, sky-lights, and port-shutters were torn away or dashed to atoms.
Frank, who was just stepping out of one of the deck-houses when the storm burst, was spun across the forecastle like a top, and would have gone overboard had not a sailor clutched his arm, and pressed him down on the deck by main force till the ship righted.
"Lie snug, young 'un," said his rescuer, "for them 'white squalls' ain't to be sneezed at, that's a fact. Look at my shirt."