'Oh, that cannot help us,' I cried; 'what does Captain Burke intend?'

'Even if it should fail as a mast,' Mrs. Burke answered, 'it will be useful as a flag-post. Why, this hull lies so flat without spars a ship might pass three or four miles off and not see us.'

Here the captain looked round and spied our heads. With a note of his old cheerfulness he called out:

'Many a good prize has been navigated out of an ocean battle-field under leaner sticks than that, and added to the Royal Navy after tasselling Jack's pocket-handkerchief with dollars.'

This he seemed to say as much for the men as for me. He then approached and asked me how I did; and told me not to look too long at the wreck.

'Keep up your heart, miss,' said he. 'We'll have you out of this in good time. Mary, don't let her stand here dwelling upon this scene. Why, it was a nightmare even to my seasoned eyes when it first came out of the dawn.'

'Is that mast meant to carry a sail?' said I.

'When we fix it and stay it we'll set something square upon it, certainly. There'll be room for a bit of fore and aft canvas between the head of it and the bowsprit end. Then let the wind blow south with God's blessing, or east or west will do, to edge us north. We need but steerage way, after which there'll be nothing to do but keep warm till all's well. Take her below, Mary. Look at her face! She'll wither here.'

The hours of daylight were so few that the night was upon the rolling hull before the seamen had done more than lash the jury-mast to the stump with a stay or two for support. And with the darkness of the night there came along a black Cape Horn snow squall, like a dust storm in its blinding power, with a thunder of wind in it, and so much more afterwards that by five o'clock as high a sea was running as that of the preceding day.

The crew came into the cabin for shelter, and cooked their own supper as before. They ate and then went to the stove, and afterwards Captain Burke and his wife and myself sat down to some cold food and a cup of hot coffee. Mr. Owen came to the door of his berth, but seeing the captain at table at once retired, closing the door upon himself. The captain took no notice. His good spirits were gone again. He drank some coffee, but scarcely tasted food. His posture was one of gloomy despondency as he sat at table, and he rarely lifted his eyes save to dart a glance now and again at the sailors, which put it into my head to think that more worked as causes for his dejection than the new fierce gale and our awful situation. His wife often furtively looked towards him but never ventured to address him, no, not even to ask him if he would eat.