Don Hernan and his officers saw the storm coming, but they were anxious to get as good an offing as possible before it had time to burst on them, and therefore kept the ship under all the canvas she could carry. On she flew, right into the eye of the rising tempest, so it seemed, though as yet the wind held to the southward. The topgallant masts bent and twisted like wands; still the captain would not allow the sails to be taken in. The wind whistled more and more shrilly through the rigging; each sea that rose seemed to increase in height, and to strike the bows with greater force as the ship, frantically it seemed, forced her onward way, while white driving foam flew in dense masses over her forecastle, and sprinkled with its lighter showers the greater part of the deck. A few stars came out and shone brightly overhead, but they were quickly obscured by the gathering clouds; the darkness increased, till nothing could be seen on either hand but the dark, tumbling seas with their white foaming crests.
Pedro Alvarez had been watching the signs of the weather with anything but a satisfied look. “We shall have it down upon us, Don Hernan, before long,” he remarked, going up to the captain. “If it catches us with all this canvas spread, some of our masts will go, I fear.”
“We may hold on yet for some time, I hope,” was the answer. “I have not forgotten yet the look of that rocky coast.”
“Nor I either; and I therefore would try to keep my sticks to beat it off,” muttered the first lieutenant, as he turned away. It appeared, however, that he was over-cautious; for some time longer there was no alteration in the weather.
“After all, I am in hopes that the squall will pass over, and by the time we have made good our westing we may get a favourable change of wind,” observed the captain, as the first lieutenant approached him. “I am going below; call me, should anything occur.”
“You will not have long to wait,” said Pedro Alvarez, bluntly.
He was right. The captain’s head was scarcely below the companion hatch, when the ship, which had been heeling over to starboard till the scuppers were under water, righted suddenly, and her sails flapped loudly against the masts.
“Hands aloft, shorten sail!” shouted the first lieutenant, with an energy that made every one start to obey the order. “Let fly topgallant sheets! Be smart, my men.”
The sails were being quickly handed. The officer had ordered topgallant-yards to be sent down, and topgallant-masts struck, when a vivid flash of forked lightning darted close ahead, across the ship’s course, followed by a terrific crash of thunder, which startled all on board. Many thought the electric fluid had struck the ship. The captain sprang on deck. He was just in time to see the ship taken aback by the long threatening gale, which came down with greater fury from its continued delay. Stern first she drove, the rising seas threatening to engulph her. Pedro Alvarez was shouting out the necessary orders to bring her round, so as once more to get headway on her. But the men were aloft endeavouring to execute the previous order issued to them, and some were obeying one order, some another. In vain Don Hernan endeavoured to aid in restoring order. The object was to reduce the after sails, so that those ahead might have greater influence. All the masts were crowded with the labouring crew; fiercer blew the tempest; there was a crash; wild shrieks, rising high above the howling of the storm, rent the air. The mizenmast had gone by the board, and falling over the starboard side had carried all those upon it into the boiling ocean.
There was a second crash; the mainyard had gone, and it seemed likely, from the way in which the mainmast bent and quivered that that also would go. In vain many of the poor fellows cast from the mizen-mast struggled for life; their shipmates were too busily occupied to afford them assistance. Some had clung desperately to the rigging, and had managed to regain it, and were endeavouring to haul themselves on board again. Now one succeeded; now another, with a cry of despair, was washed off, as the seas dashed furiously up against the corvette’s quarter, threatening to drive in her counter, or to carry away her taffrail.