their stead. Both vessels had disappeared, the brig leading, doubling
the western extremity of the reef, and going off before both wind and
current, with flowing sheets, fully three hours before the sloop-of-war
could beat up against the latter, to a point that enabled her to do the
same thing. By that time, the Swash was five-and-twenty miles to the
eastward, and consequently but just discernible in her loftiest sails,
from the ship's royal yards. Still, the latter continued the chase; and
that evening both vessels were beating down along the southern margin
of the Florida Reef, against the trades, but favoured by a three or four
knot current, the brig out of sight to windward. Our narrative leads us
to lose sight of both these vessels, for a time, in order to return to
the islets of the Gulf. Eight-and-forty hours had made some changes in
and around the haven of the Dry Tortugas. The tent still stood, and a
small fire that was boiling its pot and its kettle, at no great distance
from it, proved that the tent was still inhabited. The schooner also
rode at her anchors, very much as she had been abandoned by Spike. The
bag of doubloons, however, had been found, and there it lay, tied but
totally unguarded, in the canvas verandah of Rose Budd's habitation.
Jack Tier passed and repassed it with apparent indifference, as he went
to and fro, between his pantry and kitchen, busy as a bee in preparing
his noontide meal for the day. This man seemed to have the islet all to
himself, however, no one else being visible on any part of it. He sang
his song, in a cracked, contre alto voice, and appeared to be happy in
his solitude. Occasionally he talked to himself aloud, most probably
because he had no one else to speak to. We shall record one of his
recitatives, which came in between the strains of a very inharmonious
air, the words of which treated of the seas, while the steward's
assistant was stirring an exceedingly savoury mess that he had concocted
of the ingredients to be found in the united larders of the Swash and
the Mexican schooner.

"Stephen Spike is a capital willian!" exclaimed Jack, smelling at a
ladle filled with his soup--"a capital willian, I call him. To think,
at his time of life, of such a handsome and pleasant young thing as this
Rose Budd; and then to try to get her by underhand means, and by making
a fool of her silly old aunt. It 's wonderful what fools some old aunts
be! Quite wonderful! If I was as great a simpleton as this Mrs. Budd,
I'd never cross my threshhold. Yes, Stephen Spike is a prodigious
willian, as his best friend must own! Well, I gave him a thump on the
head that he'll not forget this v'y'ge. To think of carryin' off that
pretty Rose Budd in his very arms, in so indecent a manner! Yet, the man
has his good p'ints, if a body could only forget his bad ones. He's
a first-rate seaman. How he worked the brig till he doubled the reef,
a'ter she got into open water; and how he made her walk off afore the
wind, with stun'sails alow and aloft, as soon as ever he could make 'em
draw! My life for it, he 'll tire the legs of Uncle Sam's man, afore he
can fetch up with him. For running away, when hard chased, Stephen Spike
has n't his equal on 'arth. But, he's a great willian--a prodigious
willian! I cannot say I actually wish him hanged; but I would rather
have him hanged than see him get pretty Rose in his power. What has
he to do with girls of nineteen? If the rascal is one year old, he's
fifty-six. I hope the sloop-of-war will find her match, and I think she
will. The Molly's a great traveller, and not to be outdone easily. 'T
would be a thousand pities so lovely a craft should be cut off in the
flower of her days, as it might be, and I do hope she'll lead that
bloody sloop on some sunken rock.

"Well, there's the other bag of doubloons. It seems Stephen could not
get it. That's odd, too, for he's great at grabbin' gold. The man bears
his age well; but he's a willian! I wonder whether he or Mulford made
that half-board in the narrow channel. It was well done, and Stephen is
a perfect sailor; but he says Mulford is the same. Nice young man, that
Mulford; just fit for Rose, and Rose for him. Pity to part them. Can
find no great fault with him, except that he has too much conscience.
There's such a thing as having too much, as well as too little
conscience. Mulford has too much, and Spike has too little. For him to
think of carryin' off a gal of nineteen! I say he's fifty-six, if he's
a day. How fond he used to be of this very soup! If I've seen him eat a
quart of it, I've seen him eat a puncheon full of it, in my time. What
an appetite the man has when he's had a hard day's duty on 't! There 's
a great deal to admire, and a great deal to like in Stephen Spike, but
he's a reg'lar willian. I dare say he fancies himself a smart, jaunty
youth ag'in, as I can remember him; a lad of twenty, which was about his
years when I first saw him, by the sign that I was very little turned
of fifteen myself. Spike was comely then, though I acknowledge he's
a willian. I can see him now, with his deep blue roundabout, his
bell-mouthed trowsers, both of fine cloth--too fine for such a
willian--but fine it was, and much did it become him."

Here Jack made a long pause, during which, though he may have thought
much, he said nothing. Nevertheless, he was n't idle the while. On the
contrary, he passed no less than three several times from the fire
to the tent, and returned. Each time, in going and coming, he looked
intently at the bag of doubloons, though he did not stop at it or touch
it. Some associations connected with Spike's fruitless attempts to
obtain it must have formed its principal interest with this singular
being, as he muttered his captain's name each time in passing, though
he said no more audibly. The concerns of the dinner carried him back
and forth; and in his last visit to the tent, he began to set a small
table--one that had been brought for the convenience of Mrs. Budd and
her niece, from the brig, and which of course still remained on the
islet. It was while thus occupied, that Jack Tier recommenced his
soliloquy.

"I hope that money may do some worthy fellow good yet. It's Mexican
gold, and that's inemy's gold, and might be condemned by law, I do
suppose. Stephen had a hankerin' a'ter it, but he did not get it. It
come easy enough to the next man that tried. That Spike 's a willian,
and the gold was too good for him. He has no conscience at all to think
of a gal of nineteen! And one fit for his betters, in the bargain. The
time has been when Stephen Spike might have pretended to Rose Budd's
equal. That much I'll ever maintain, but that time's gone; and, what is
more, it will never come again. I should like Mulford better if he had a
little less conscience. Conscience may do for Uncle Sam's ships, but
it is sometimes in the way aboard a trading craft. What can a fellow
do with a conscience when dollars is to be smuggled off, or tobacco
smuggled ashore? I do suppose I've about as much conscience as it is
useful to have, and I've got ashore in my day twenty thousand dollars'
worth of stuff, of one sort or another, if I've got ashore the valie
of ten dollars. But Spike carries on business on too large a scale, and
many's the time I've told him so. I could have forgiven him anything but
this attempt on Rose Budd; and he's altogether too old for that, to say
nothing of other people's rights. He's an up-and-down willian, and a
body can make no more, nor any less of him. That soup must be near done,
and I'll hoist the signal for grub."

This signal was a blue-peter of which one had been brought ashore to
signal the brig; and with which Jack now signalled the schooner. If the
reader will turn his eyes toward the last named vessel, he will find
the guests whom Tier expected to surround his table. Rose, her aunt, and
Biddy were all seated, under an awning made by a sail, on the deck of
the schooner, which now floated so buoyantly as to show that she had
materially lightened since last seen. Such indeed was the fact, and he
who had been the instrument of producing this change, appeared on deck
in the person of Mulford, as soon as he was told that the blue-peter of
Jack Tier was flying.

The boat of the light-house, that in which Spike had landed in quest of
Rose, was lying alongside of the schooner, and sufficiently explained
the manner in which the mate had left the brig. This boat, in fact,
had been fastened astern, in the hurry of getting from under the
sloop-of-war's fire, and Mulford had taken the opportunity of the
consternation and frantic efforts produced by the explosion of the last
shell thrown, to descend from his station on the coach-house into this
boat, to cut the painter, and to let the Swash glide away from him. This
the vessel had done with great rapidity, leaving him unseen under the
cover of her stern. As soon as in the boat, the mate had seized an oar,
and sculled to an islet that was within fifty yards, concealing the
boat behind a low hummock that formed a tiny bay. All this was done
so rapidly, that united to the confusion on board the Swash, no one
discovered the mate or the boat. Had he been seen, however, it is very
little probable that Spike would have lost a moment of time, in the
attempt to recover either. But he was not seen, and it was the general
opinion on board the Swash, for quite an hour, that her handsome mate
had been knocked overboard and killed, by a fragment of the shell that
had seemed to explode almost in the ears of her people. When the reef
was doubled, however, and Spike made his preparations for meeting the
rough water, he hove to, and ordered his own yawl, which was also towing
astern, to be hauled up alongside, in order to be hoisted in. Then,
indeed, some glimmerings of the truth were shed on the crew, who missed
the light-house boat. Though many contended that its painter must also
have been cut by a fragment of the shell, and that the mate had died
loyal to roguery and treason. Mulford was much liked by the crew, and he
was highly valued by Spike, on account of his seamanship and integrity,
this latter being a quality that is just as necessary for one of the
captain's character to meet with in those he trusts as to any other man.
But Spike thought differently of the cause of Mulford's disappearance,
from his crew. He ascribed it altogether to love for Rose, when, in
truth, it ought in justice to have been quite as much imputed to a
determination to sail no longer with a man who was clearly guilty of
treason. Of smuggling, Mulford had long suspected Spike, though he had
no direct proof of the fact; but now he could not doubt that he was not
only engaged in supplying the enemy with the munitions of war, but was
actually bargaining to sell his brig for a hostile cruiser, and possibly
to transfer himself and crew along with her.

It is scarcely necessary to speak of the welcome Mulford received
when he reached the islet of the tent. He and Rose had a long private
conference, the result of which was to let the handsome mate into the
secret of his pretty companion's true feelings toward himself. She had
received him with tears, and a betrayal of emotion that gave him
every encouragement, and now she did not deny her preference. In that
interview the young people plighted to each other their troth. Rose
never doubted of obtaining her aunt's consent in due time, all her
prejudices being in favour of the sea and sailors; and should she not,
she would soon be her own mistress, and at liberty to dispose of herself
and her pretty little fortune as she might choose. But a cypher as she
was, in all questions of real moment, Mrs. Budd was not a person likely
to throw any real obstacle in the way of the young people's wishes; the
true grounds of whose present apprehensions were all to be referred
to Spike, his intentions, and his well-known perseverance. Mulford
was convinced that the brig would be back in quest of the remaining
doubloons, as soon as she could get clear of the sloop-of-war, though
he was not altogether without a hope that the latter, when she found
it impossible to overhaul her chase, might also return in order to
ascertain what discoveries could be made in and about the schooner. The
explosion of the powder, on the islet, must have put the man-of-war's
men in possession of the secret of the real quality of the flour that
had composed her cargo, and it doubtless had awakened all their distrust
on the subject of the Swash's real business in the Gulf. Under all the
circumstances, therefore, it did appear quite as probable that one of
the parties should reappear at the scene of their recent interview as
the other.

Bearing all these things in mind, Mulford had lost no time in completing
his own arrangements. He felt that he had some atonement to make to the
country, for the part he had seemingly taken in the late events, and it
occurred to him, could he put the schooner in a state to be moved, then
place her in the hands of the authorities, his own peace would be made,
and his character cleared. Rose no sooner understood his plans
and motives, than she entered into them with all the ardour and
self-devotion of her sex; for the single hour of confidential and frank
communication which had just passed, doubled the interest she felt in
Mulford and in all that belonged to him. Jack Tier was useful on board
a vessel, though his want of stature and force rendered him less so than
was common with sea-faring men. His proper sphere certainly had been the
cabins, where his usefulness was beyond all cavil; but he was now very
serviceable to Mulford on the deck of the schooner. The first two days,
Mrs. Budd had been left on the islet, to look to the concerns of the
kitchen, while Mulford, accompanied by Rose, Biddy and Jack Tier, had
gone off to the schooner, and set her pumps in motion again. It was
little that Rose could do, or indeed attempt to do, at this toil, but
the pumps being small and easily worked, Biddy and Jack were of great
service. By the end of the second day the pumps sucked; the cargo
that remained in the schooner, as well as the form of her bottom,
contributing greatly to lessen the quantity of the water that was to be
got out of her.

Then it was that the doubloons fell into Mulford's hands, along with
everything else that remained below decks. It was perhaps fortunate that
the vessel was thoroughly purified by her immersion, and the articles
that were brought on deck to be dried were found in a condition to give
no great offence to those who removed them. By leaving the hatches off,
and the cabin doors open, the warm winds of the trades effectually dried
the interior of the schooner in the course of a single night; and when
Mulford repaired on board of her, on the morning of the third day, he
found her in a condition to be fitted for his purposes. On this
occasion Mrs. Budd had expressed a wish to go off to look at her future
accommodations, and Jack was left on the islet to cook the dinner, which
will explain the actual state of things as described in the opening of
this chapter.

As those who toil usually have a relish for their food, the appearance
of the blue-peter was far from being unwelcome to those on board of the
schooner. They got into the boat, and were sculled ashore by Mulford,
who, seaman-like, used only one hand in performing this service. In a
very few minutes they were all seated at the little table, which was
brought out into the tent-verandah for the enjoyment of the breeze.

"So far, well," said Mulford, after his appetite was mainly appeased;
Rose picking crumbs, and affecting to eat, merely to have the air of
keeping him company; one of the minor proofs of the little attentions
that spring from the affections. "So far, well. The sails are bent, and
though they might be never and better, they can be made to answer. It
was fortunate to find anything like a second suit on board a Mexican
craft of that size at all. As it is, we have foresail, mainsail, and
jib, and with that canvas I think we might beat the schooner down to Key
West in the course of a day and a night. If I dared to venture outside
of the reef, it might be done sooner even, for they tell me there is a
four-knot current sometimes in that track; but I do not like to venture
outside, so short-handed. The current inside must serve our turn, and
we shall get smooth water by keeping under the lee of the rocks. I only
hope we shall not get into an eddy as we go further from the end of the
reef, and into the bight of the coast."

"Is there danger of that?" demanded Rose, whose quick intellect had
taught her many of these things, since her acquaintance with vessels.

"There may be, looking at the formation of the reef and islands, though
I know nothing of the fact by actual observation. This is my first visit
in this quarter."

"Eddies are serious matters," put in Mrs. Budd, "and my poor husband
could not abide them. Tides are good things; but eddies are very
disagreeable."

"Well, aunty, I should think eddies might sometimes be as welcome as
tides. It must depend, however, very much on the way one wishes to go."

"Rose, you surprise me! All that you have read, and all that you have
heard, must have shown you the difference. Do they not say 'a man is
floating with the tide,' when things are prosperous with him--and don't
ships drop down with the tide, and beat the wind with the tide? And
don't vessels sometimes 'tide it up to town,' as it is called, and is
n't it thought an advantage to have the tide with you?"

"All very true, aunty; but I do not see how that makes eddies any the
worse."

"Because eddies are the opposite of tides, child. When the tide goes one
way, the eddy goes another--is n't it so, Harry Mulford? You never heard
of one's floating in an eddy."

"That's what we mean by an eddy, Mrs. Budd," answered the handsome mate,
delighted to hear Rose's aunt call him by an appellation so kind and
familiar,--a thing she had never done previously to the intercourse
which had been the consequence of their present situation. "Though I
agree with Rose in thinking an eddy may be a good or a bad thing, and
very much like a tide, as one wishes to steer."

"You amaze me, both of you! Tides are always spoken of favourably, but
eddies never. If a ship gets ashore, the tide can float her off;
that I've heard a thousand times. Then, what do the newspapers say
of President--, and Governor--, and Congressman--? Why, that they all
'float in the tide of public opinion,' and that must mean something
particularly good, as they are always in office. No, no, Harry; I'll
acknowledge that you do know something about ships; a good deal,
considering how young you are; but you have something to learn about
eddies. Never trust one as long as you live."

Mulford was silent, and Rose took the occasion to change the discourse.

"I hope we shall soon be able to quit this place," she said; "for I
confess to some dread of Captain Spike's return."

"Captain Stephen Spike has greatly disappointed me," observed the aunt,
gravely. "I do not know that I was ever before deceived in judging
a person. I could have sworn he was an honest, frank, well-meaning
sailor--a character, of all others, that I love; but it has turned out
otherwise."

"He's a willian!" mutttered Jack Tier.

Mulford smiled; at which speech we must leave to conjecture; but he
answered Rose, as he ever did, promptly and with pleasure.

"The schooner is ready, and this must be our last meal ashore," he said.
"Our outfit will be no great matter; but if it will carry us down to Key
West, I shall ask no more of it. As for the return of the Swash, I look
upon it as certain. She could easily get clear of the sloop-of-war,
with the start she had, and Spike is a man that never yet abandoned a
doubloon, when he knew where one was to be found."

"Stephen Spike is like all his fellow-creatures," put in Jack Tier,
pointedly. "He has his faults, and he has his virtues."

"Virtue is a term I should never think of applying to such a man,"
returned Mulford, a little surprised at the fellow's earnestness. "The
word is a big one, and belongs to quite another class of persons."
Jack muttered a few syllables that were unintelligible, when again the
conversation changed.

Rose now inquired of Mulford as to their prospects of getting to Key
West. He told her that the distance was about sixty miles; their route
lying along the north or inner side of the Florida Reef. The whole
distance was to be made against the trade-wind, which was then blowing
about an eight-knot breeze, though, bating eddies, they might expect to
be favoured with the current, which was less strong inside than
outside of the reef. As for handling the schooner, Mulford saw no great
difficulty in that. She was not large, and was both lightly sparred and
lightly rigged. All her top-hamper had been taken down by Spike, and
nothing remained but the plainest and most readily-managed gear. A
fore-and-aft vessel, sailing close by the wind, is not difficult to
steer; will almost steer herself, indeed, in smooth water. Jack Tier
could take his trick at the helm, in any weather, even in running before
the wind, the time when it is most difficult to guide a craft, and Rose
might be made to understand the use of the tiller, and taught to govern
the motions of a vessel so small and so simply rigged, when on a wind
and in smooth water. On the score of managing the schooner, therefore,
Mulford thought there would be little cause for apprehension. Should
the weather continue settled, he had little doubt of safely landing
the whole party at Key West, in the course of the next four-and-twenty
hours. Short sail he should be obliged to carry, as well on account of
the greater facility of managing it, as on account of the circumstance
that the schooner was now in light ballast trim, and would not bear much
canvas. He thought that the sooner they left the islets the better,
as it could not be long ere the brig would be seen hovering around the
spot. All these matters were discussed as the party still sat at table;
and when they left it, which was a few minutes later, it was to remove
the effects they intended to carry away to the boat. This was soon done,
both Jack Tier and Biddy proving very serviceable, while Rose tripped
backward and forward, with a step elastic as a gazelle's, carrying
light burdens. In half an hour the boat was ready. "Here lies the bag of
doubloons still," said Mulford, smiling. "Is it to be left, or shall we
give it up to the admiralty court at Key West, and put in a claim for
salvage?"

"Better leave it for Spike," said Jack unexpectedly. "Should he come
back, and find the doubloons, he may be satisfied, and not look for the
schooner. On the other hand, when the vessel is missing, he will think
that the money is in her. Better leave it for old Stephen."

"I do not agree with you, Tier," said Rose, though she looked as
amicably at the steward's assistant, as she thus opposed his opinion,
as if anxious to persuade rather than coerce. "I do not quite agree with
you. This money belongs to the Spanish merchant; and, as we take away
with us his vessel, to give it up to the authorities at Key West, I do
not think we have a right to put his gold on the shore and abandon it."

This disposed of the question. Mulford took the bag, and carried it to
the boat, without waiting to ascertain if Jack had any objection; while
the whole party followed. In a few minutes everybody and everything in
the boat were transferred to the deck of the schooner. As for the tent,
the old sails of which it was made, the furniture it contained, and such
articles of provisions as were not wanted, they were left on the islet,
without regret. The schooner had several casks of fresh water, which
were found in her hold, and she had also a cask or two of salted meats,
besides several articles of food more delicate, that had been provided
by Se¤or Montefalderon for his own use, and which had not been damaged
by the water. A keg of Boston crackers were among these eatables, quite
half of which were still in a state to be eaten. They were Biddy's
delight; and it was seldom that she could be seen when not nibbling at
one of them. The bread of the crew was hopelessly damaged. But Jack had
made an ample provision of bread when sent ashore, and there was still
a hundred barrels of the flour in the schooner's hold. One of these
had been hoisted on deck by Mulford, and opened. The injured flour was
easily removed, leaving a considerable quantity fit for the uses of the
kitchen. As for the keg of gunpowder, it was incontinently committed to
the deep.

Thus provided for, Mulford decided that the time had arrived when he
ought to quit his anchorage. He had been employed most of that morning
in getting the schooner's anchor, a work of great toil to him, though
everybody had assisted. He had succeeded, and the vessel now rode by a
kedge, that he could easily weigh by means of a deck tackle. It remained
now, therefore, to lift this kedge and to stand out of the bay of the
islets. No sooner was the boat secured astern, and its freight disposed
of, than the mate began to make sail. In order to hoist the mainsail
well up, he was obliged to carry the halyards to the windlass. Thus
aided, he succeeded without much difficulty. He and Jack Tier and Biddy
got the jib hoisted by hand; and as for the fore-sail, that would almost
set itself. Of course, it was not touched until the kedge was aweigh.
Mulford found little difficulty in lifting the last, and he soon had the
satisfaction of finding his craft clear of the ground. As Jack Tier was
every way competent to take charge of the forecastle, Mulford now sprang
aft, and took his own station at the helm; Rose acting as his pretty
assistant on the quarter-deck.

There is little mystery in getting a fore-and-aft vessel under way.
Her sails fill almost as a matter of course, and motion follows as a
necessary law. Thus did it prove with the Mexican schooner, which turned
out to be a fast-sailing and an easily-worked craft. She was, indeed, an
American bottom, as it is termed, having been originally built for the
Chesapeake; and, though not absolutely what is understood by a Baltimore
clipper, so nearly of that mould and nature as to possess some of the
more essential qualities. As usually happens, however, when a foreigner
gets hold of an American schooner, the Mexicans had shortened her masts
and lessened her canvas. This circumstance was rather an advantage to
Mulford, who would probably have had more to attend to than he wished
under the original rig of the craft.

Everybody, even to the fastidious Mrs. Budd, was delighted with the easy
and swift movement of the schooner. Mulford, now he had got her under
canvas, handled her without any difficulty, letting her stand toward the
channel through which he intended to pass, with her sheets just taken
in, though compelled to keep a little off, in order to enter between the
islets. No difficulty occurred, however, and in less than ten minutes
the vessel was clear of the channels, and in open water. The sheets were
now flattened in, and the schooner brought close by the wind. A trial of
the vessel on this mode of sailing was no sooner made, than Mulford
was induced to regret he had taken so many precautions against any
increasing power of the wind. To meet emergencies, and under the notion
he should have his craft more under command, the young man had reefed
his mainsail, and taken the bonnets off of the foresail and jib. As the
schooner stood up better than he had anticipated, the mate felt as all
seamen are so apt to feel, when they see that their vessels might be
made to perform more than is actually got out of them. As the breeze was
fresh, however, he determined not to let out the reef; and the labour of
lacing on the bonnets again was too great to be thought of just at that
moment.

We all find relief on getting in motion, when pressed by circumstances.
Mulford had been in great apprehension of the re-appearance of the
Swash all that day; for it was about the time when Spike would be apt
to return, in the event of his escaping from the sloop-of-war, and he
dreaded Rose's again falling into the hands of a man so desperate. Nor
is it imputing more than a very natural care to the young man, to say
that he had some misgivings concerning himself. Spike, by this time,
must be convinced that his business in the Gulf was known; and one
who had openly thrown off his service, as his mate had done, would
unquestionably be regarded as a traitor to his interests, whatever might
be the relation in which he would stand to the laws of the country. It
was probable such an alleged offender would not be allowed to appear
before the tribunals of the land, to justify himself and to accuse the
truly guilty, if it were in the power of the last to prevent it. Great,
therefore, was the satisfaction of our handsome young mate when he found
himself again fairly in motion, with a craft under him, that glided
ahead in a way to prove that she might give even the Swash some trouble
to catch her, in the event of a trial of speed.

Everybody entered into the feelings of Mulford, as the schooner passed
gallantly out from between the islets, and entered the open water.
Fathom by fathom did her wake rapidly increase, until it could no longer
be traced back as far as the sandy beaches that had just been left. In a
quarter of an hour more, the vessel had drawn so far from the land,
that some of the smaller and lowest of the islets were getting to be
indistinct. At that instant everybody had come aft, the females taking
their seats on the trunk, which, in this vessel as in the Swash herself,
gave space and height to the cabin.

"Well," exclaimed Mrs. Budd, who found the freshness of the sea air
invigorating, as well as their speed exciting, "this is what I call
maritime, Rosy, dear. This is what is meant by the Maritime States,
about which we read so much, and which are commonly thought to be so
important. We are now in a Maritime State, and I feel perfectly happy
after all our dangers and adventures!"

"Yes, aunty, and I am delighted that you are happy," answered Rose, with
frank affection. "We are now rid of that infamous Spike, and may hope
never to see his face more."

"Stephen Spike has his good p'ints as well as another," said Jack Tier,
abruptly.

"I know that he is an old shipmate of yours, Tier, and that you cannot
forget how he once stood connected with you, and am sorry I have said
so much against him," answered Rose, expressing her concern even more by
her looks and tones, than by her words.

Jack was mollified by this, and he let his feeling be seen, though he
said no more than to mutter, "He's a willian!" words that had frequently
issued from his lips within the last day or two.

"Stephen Spike is a capital seaman, and that is something in any man,"
observed the relict of Captain Budd. "He learned his trade from one who
was every way qualified to teach him, and it's no wonder he should be
expert. Do you expect, Mr. Mulford, to beat the wind the whole distance
to Key West?"

It was not possible for any one to look more grave than the mate did
habitually, while the widow was floundering through her sea-terms. Rose
had taught him that respect for her aunt was to be one of the conditions
of her own regard, though Rose had never opened her lips to him on the
subject.

"Yes, ma'am," answered the mate, respectfully, "we are in the trades,
and shall have to turn to windward, every inch of the way to Key West."

"Of what lock is this place the key, Rosy?" asked the aunt, innocently
enough. "I know that forts and towns are sometimes called keys, but they
always have locks of some sort or other. Now, Gibraltar is the key of
the Mediterranean, as your uncle has told me fifty times; and I have
been there, and can understand why it should be,--but I do not know of
what lock this West is the key."

"It is not that sort of key which is meant, aunty, at all--but quite a
different thing. The key meant is an island."

"And why should any one be so silly as to call an island a key?"

"The place where vessels unload is sometimes called a key," answered
Mulford;--"the French calling it a quai, and the Dutch kaye. I suppose
our English word is derived from these. Now, a low, sandy island,
looking somewhat like keys, or wharves, seamen have given them this
name. Key West is merely a low island."

"Then there is no lock to it, or anything to be unfastened," said the
widow, in her most simple manner.

"It may turn out to be the key to the Gulf of Mexico, one of these days,
ma'am. Uncle Sam is surveying the reef, and intends to do something
here, I believe. When Uncle Sam is really in earnest, he is capable of
performing great things."

Mrs. Budd was satisfied with this explanation, though she told Biddy
that evening, that "locks and keys go together, and that the person who
christened the island to which they were going, must have been very
weak in his upper story." But these reflections on the intellects of her
fellow-creatures were by no means uncommon with the worthy relict; and
we cannot say that her remarks made any particular impression on her
Irish maid.

In the mean time, the Mexican schooner behaved quite to Mulford's
satisfaction. He thought her a little tender in the squalls, of which
they had several that afternoon; but he remarked to Rose, who expressed
her uneasiness at the manner in which the vessel lay over in one of
them, that "she comes down quite easy to her bearings, but it is hard
forcing her beyond them. The vessel needs more cargo to ballast her,
though, on the whole, I find her as stiff as one could expect. I am now
glad that I reefed, and reduced the head sails, though I was sorry at
having done so when we first came out. At this rate of sailing, we ought
to be up with Key West by morning."

But that rate of sailing did not continue. Toward evening, the breeze
lessened almost to a calm again, the late tornado appearing to have
quite deranged the ordinary stability of the trades. When the sun set,
and it went down into the broad waters of the Gulf a flood of flame,
there was barely a two-knot breeze, and Mulford had no longer
any anxiety on the subject of keeping his vessel on her legs. His
solicitude, now, was confined to the probability of falling in with the
Swash. As yet, nothing was visible, either in the shape of land or in
that of a sail. Between the islets of the Dry Tortugas and the next
nearest visible keys, there is a space of open water, of some forty
miles in width. The reef extends across it, of course; but nowhere does
the rock protrude itself above the surface of the sea. The depth of
water on this reef varies essentially. In some places, a ship of size
might pass on to it, if not across it; while in others a man could wade
for miles. There is one deep and safe channel--safe to those who are
acquainted with it--through the centre of this open space, and which is
sometimes used by vessels that wish to pass from one side to the other;
but it is ever better for those whose business does not call them in
that direction, to give the rocks a good berth, more especially in the
night.

Mulford had gleaned many of the leading facts connected with the
channels, and the navigation of those waters, from Spike and the older
seamen of the brig, during the time they had been lying at the Tortugas.
Such questions and answers are common enough on board ships, and, as
they are usually put and given with intelligence, one of our mate's
general knowledge of his profession, was likely to carry away much
useful information. By conversations of this nature, and by consulting
the charts, which Spike did not affect to conceal after the name of
his port became known, the young man, in fact, had so far made himself
master of the subject, as to have tolerably accurate notions of the
courses, distances, and general peculiarities of the reef. When the sun
went down, he supposed himself to be about half-way across the space of
open water, and some five-and-twenty miles dead to windward of his
port of departure. This was doing very well for the circumstances, and
Mulford believed himself and his companions clear of spike, when, as
night drew its veil over the tranquil sea, nothing was in sight.

A very judicious arrangement was made for the watches on board the
Mexican schooner, on this important night. Mrs. Budd had a great fancy
to keep a watch, for once in her life, and, after the party had supped,
and the subject came up in the natural course of things, a dialogue like
this occurred:

"Harry must be fatigued," said Rose, kindly, "and must want sleep. The
wind is so light, and the weather appears to be so settled, that I think
it would be better for him to 'turn in,' as he calls it;"--here Rose
laughed so prettily that the handsome mate wished she would repeat
the words,--"better that he should 'turn in' now, and we can call him,
should there be need of his advice or assistance. I dare say Jack Tier
and I can take very good care of the schooner until daylight."

Mrs. Budd thought it would be no more than proper for one of her
experience and years to rebuke this levity, as well as to enlighten the
ignorance her niece had betrayed.

"You should be cautious, my child, how you propose anything to be done
on a ship's board," observed the aunt. "It requires great experience and
a suitable knowledge of rigging to give maritime advice. Now, as might
have been expected, considering your years, and the short time you have
been at sea, you have made several serious mistakes in what you have
proposed. In the first place, there should always be a mate on the deck,
as I have heard your dear departed uncle say, again and again; and
how can there be a mate on the deck if Mr. Mulford 'turns in,' as you
propose, seeing that he's the only mate we have. Then you should never
laugh at any maritime expression, for each and all are, as a body might
say, solemnized by storms and dangers. That Harry is fatigued I think is
very probable; and he must set our watches, as they call it, when he can
make his arrangements for the night, and take his rest as is usual.
Here is my watch to begin with; and I'll engage he does not find it
two minutes out of the way, though yours, Rosy dear, like most girl's
time-pieces, is, I'll venture to say, dreadfully wrong. Where is your
chronometer, Mr. Mulford? let us see how this excellent watch of mine,
which was once my poor departed Mr. Budd's, will agree with that piece
of your's, which I have heard you say is excellent."

Here was a flight in science and nautical language that poor Mulford
could not have anticipated, even in the captain's relict! That Mrs. Budd
should mistake "setting the watch" for "setting our watches," was not
so very violent a blunder that one ought to be much astonished at it in
her; but that she should expect to find a chronometer that was intended
to keep the time of Greenwich, agreeing with a watch that was set for
the time of New York, betrayed a degree of ignorance that the handsome
mate was afraid Rose would resent on him, when the mistake was made to
appear. As the widow held out her own watch for the comparison, however,
he could not refuse to produce his own. By Mrs. Budd's watch it was past
seven o'clock, while by his own, or the Greenwich-set chronometer, it
was a little past twelve.

"How very wrong your watch is, Mr. Mulford," cried the good lady,
"notwithstanding all you have said in its favour. It's quite five hours
too fast, I do declare; and now, Rosy dear, you see the importance of
setting watches on a ship's board, as is done every evening, my departed
husband has often told me."

"Harry's must be what he calls a dog-watch, aunty," said Rose, laughing,
though she scarce knew at what.

"The watch goes, too," added the widow, raising the chronometer to her
ear, "though it is so very wrong. Well, set it, Mr. Mulford; then we
will set Rose's, which I'll engage is half an hour out of the way,
though it can never be as wrong as yours."

Mulford was a good deal embarrassed, but he gained courage by looking at
Rose, who appeared to him to be quite as much mystified as her aunt.
For once he hoped Rose was ignorant; for nothing would be so likely to
diminish the feeling produced by the exposure of the aunt's mistake, as
to include the niece in the same category.

"My watch is a chronometer, you will recollect, Mrs. Budd," said the
young man.

"I know it; and they ought to keep the very best time--that I've always
heard. My poor Mr. Budd had two, and they were as large as compasses,
and sold for hundreds after his lamented decease."

"They were ship's chronometers, but mine was made for the pocket. It
is true, chronometers are intended to keep the most accurate time, and
usually they do; this of mine, in particular, would not lose ten seconds
in a twelvemonth, did I not carry it on my person."

"No, no, it does not seem to lose any, Harry; it only gains," cried
Rose, laughing.

Mulford was now satisfied, notwithstanding all that had passed on a
previous occasion, that the laughing, bright-eyed, and quick-witted
girl at his elbow, knew no more of the uses of a chronometer than her
unusually dull and ignorant aunt; and he felt himself relieved from all
embarrassment at once. Though he dared not even seem to distrust Mrs.
Budd's intellect or knowledge before Rose, he did not scruple to laugh
at Rose herself, to Rose. With her there was no jealousy on the score
of capacity, her quickness being almost as obvious to all who approached
her as her beauty.

"Rose Budd, you do not understand the uses of a chronometer, I see,"
said the mate, firmly, "notwithstanding all I have told you concerning
them."

"It is to keep time, Harry Mulford, is it not?"

"True, to keep time--but to keep the time of a particular meridian; you
know what meridian means, I hope?"

Rose looked intently at her lover, and she looked singularly lovely,
for she blushed slightly, though her smile was as open and amicable as
ingenuousness and affection could make it.

"A meridian means a point over our heads--the spot where the sun is at
noon," said Rose, doubtingly.

"Quite right; but it also means longitude, in one sense. If you draw a
line from one pole to the other, all the places it crosses are on the
same meridian. As the sun first appears in the east, it follows that he
rises sooner in places that are east, than in places that are further
west. Thus it is, that at Greenwich, in England, where there is an
observatory made for nautical purposes, the sun rises about five hours
sooner than it does here. All this difference is subject to rules, and
we know exactly how to measure it."

"How can that be, Harry? You told me this but the other day, yet have I
forgotten it."

"Quite easily. As the earth turns round in just twenty-four hours, and
its circumference is divided into three hundred and sixty equal parts,
called degrees, we have only to divide 360 by 24, to know how many of
these degrees are included in the difference produced by one hour of
time. There are just fifteen of them, as you will find by multiplying 24
by 15. It follows that the sun rises just one hour later, each fifteen
degrees of longitude, as you go west, or one hour earlier each fifteen
degrees of longitude as you go east. Having ascertained the difference
by the hour, it is easy enough to calculate for the minutes and
seconds."

"Yes, yes," said Rose, eagerly, "I see all that--go on."

"Now a chronometer is nothing but a watch, made with great care, so as
not to lose or gain more than a few seconds in a twelvemonth. Its whole
merit is in keeping time accurately."

"Still I do not see how that can be anything more than a very good
watch."

"You will see in a minute, Rose. For purposes that you will presently
understand, books are calculated for certain meridians, or longitudes,
as at Greenwich and Paris, and those who use the books calculated for
Greenwich, get their chronometers set at Greenwich, and those who use
the Paris, get their chronometers set to Paris time. When I was last
in England, I took this watch to Greenwich, and had it set at the
Observatory by the true solar time. Ever since it has been running
by that time, and what you see here is the true Greenwich time, after
allowing for a second or two that it may have lost or gained."

"All that is plain enough," said the much interested Rose--"but of what
use is it all?"

"To help mariners to find their longitude at sea, and thus know where
they are. As the sun passes so far north, and so far south of the
equator each year, it is easy enough to find the latitude, by observing
his position at noon-day; but for a long time seamen had great
difficulty in ascertaining their longitudes. That, too, is done by
observing the different heavenly bodies, and with greater accuracy than
by any other process; but this thought of measuring the time is very
simple, and so easily put in practice, that we all run by it now."

"Still I cannot understand it," said Rose, looking so intently, so
eagerly, and so intelligently into the handsome mate's eyes, that he
found it was pleasant to teach her other things besides how to love.

"I will explain it. Having the Greenwich time in the watch, we observe
the sun, in order to ascertain the true time, wherever we may happen
to be. It is a simple thing to ascertain the true time of day by an
observation of the sun, which marks the hours in his track; and when we
get our observation, we have some one to note the time at a particular
instant on the chronometer. By noting the hour, minutes, and seconds, at
Greenwich, at the very instant we observe here, when we have calculated
from that observation the time here, we have only to add, or subtract,
the time here from that of Greenwich, to know precisely how far east or
west we are from Greenwich, which gives us our longitude."

"I begin to comprehend it again," exclaimed Rose, delighted at the
acquisition in knowledge she had just made. "How beautiful it is, yet
how simple--but why do I forget it?"

"Perfectly simple, and perfectly sure, too, when the chronometer is
accurate, and the observations are nicely made. It is seldom we are more
than eight or ten miles out of the way, and for them we keep a look-out.
It is only to ascertain the time where you are, by means that are easily
used, then look at your watch to learn the time of day at Greenwich,
or any other meridian you may have selected, and to calculate your
distance, east or west, from that meridian, by the difference in the two
times."

Rose could have listened all night, for her quick mind readily
comprehended the principle which lies at the bottom of this useful
process, though still ignorant of some of the details. This time she was
determined to secure her acquisition, though it is quite probable that,
woman-like, they were once more lost, almost as easily as made. Mulford,
however, was obliged to leave her, to look at the vessel, before he
stretched himself on the deck, in an old sail; it having been previously
determined that he should sleep first, while the wind was light, and
that Jack Tier, assisted by the females, should keep the first watch.
Rose would not detain the mate, therefore, but let him go his way, in
order to see that all was right before he took his rest.

Mrs. Budd had listened to Mulford's second explanation of the common
mode of ascertaining the longitude, with all the attention of which she
was capable; but it far exceeded the powers of her mind to comprehend
it. There are persons who accustom themselves to think so superficially,
that it becomes a painful process to attempt to dive into any of the
arcana of nature, and who ever turn from such investigations wearied
and disgusted. Many of these persons, perhaps most of them, need only
a little patience and perseverance to comprehend all the more familiar
phenomena, but they cannot command even that much of the two qualities
named to obtain the knowledge they would fain wish to possess. Mrs. Budd
did not belong to a division as high in the intellectual scale as even
this vapid class. Her intellect was unequal to embracing anything of an
abstracted character, and only received the most obvious impressions,
and those quite half the time it received wrong. The mate's reasoning,
therefore, was not only inexplicable to her, but it sounded absurd and
impossible.

"Rosy, dear," said the worthy relict, as soon as she saw Mulford stretch
his fine frame on his bed of canvas, speaking at the same time in a low,
confidential tone to her niece, "what was it that Harry was telling you
a little while ago? It sounded to me like rank nonsense; and men will
talk nonsense to young girls, as I have so often warned you, child. You
must never listen to their nonsense, Rosy; but remember your catechism
and confirmation vow, and be a good girl."

To how many of the feeble-minded and erring do those offices of the
church prove a stay and support, when their own ordinary powers of
resistance would fail them! Rose, however, viewed the matter just as it
was, and answered accordingly.

"But this was nothing of that nature, aunty," she said, "and only an
account of the mode of finding out where a ship is, when out of sight of
land, in the middle of the ocean. We had the same subject up the other
day."

"And how did Harry tell you, this time, that was done, my dear?"

"By finding the difference in the time of day between two places--just
as he did before."

"But there is no difference in the time of day, child, when the clocks
go well."

"Yes, there is, aunty dear, as the sun rises in one place before it does
in another."

"Rose you've been listening to nonsense now! Remember what I have so
often told you about young men, and their way of talking. I admit Harry
Mulford is a respectable youth, and has respectable connections, and
since you like one another, you may have him, with all my heart, as soon
as he gets a full-jiggered ship, for I am resolved no niece of my poor
dear husband's shall ever marry a mate, or a captain even, unless he has
a full-jiggered ship under his feet. But do not talk nonsense with him.
Nonsense is nonsense, though a sensible man talks it. As for all this
stuff about the time of day, you can see it is nonsense, as the sun
rises but once in twenty-four hours, and of course there cannot be two
times, as you call it."

"But, aunty dear, it is not always noon at London when it is noon at New
York."

"Fiddle-faddle, child; noon is noon, and there are no more two noons
than two suns, or two times. Distrust what young men tell you, Rosy, if
you would be safe, though they should tell you you are handsome."

Poor Rose sighed, and gave up the explanation in despair. Then a smile
played around her pretty mouth. It was not at her aunt that she smiled;
this she never permitted herself to do, weak as was that person, and
weak as she saw her to be; she smiled at the recollection how often
Mulford had hinted at her good looks--for Rose was a female, and had
her own weaknesses, as well as another. But the necessity of acting soon
drove these thoughts from her mind, and Rose sought Jack Tier, to confer
with him on the subject of their new duties.

As for Harry Mulford, his head was no sooner laid on its bunch of sail
than he fell into a profound sleep. There he lay, slumbering as the
seaman slumbers, with no sense of surrounding things. The immense
fatigues of that and of the two preceding days,--for he had toiled
at the pumps even long after night had come, until the vessel was
clear,--weighed him down, and nature was now claiming her influence,
and taking a respite from exertion. Had he been left to himself, it is
probable the mate would not have arisen until the sun had reappeared
some hours.

It is now necessary to explain more minutely the precise condition, as
well as the situation of the schooner. On quitting his port, Mulford had
made a stretch of some two leagues in length, toward the northward and
eastward, when he tacked and stood to the southward. There was enough
of southing in the wind, to make his last course nearly due south. As he
neared the reef, he found that he fell in some miles to the eastward of
the islets,--proof that he was doing very well, and that there was no
current to do him any material harm, if, indeed, there were not actually
a current in his favour. He next tacked to the northward again, and
stood in that direction until near night, when he once more went about.
The wind was now so light that he saw little prospect of getting in with
the reef again, until the return of day; but as he had left orders with
Jack Tier to be called at twelve o'clock, at all events, this gave him
no uneasiness. At the time when the mate lay down to take his rest,
therefore, the schooner was quite five-and-twenty miles to windward of
the Dry Tortugas, and some twenty miles to the northward of the Florida
Reef, with the wind quite light at east-south-east. Such, then, was the
position or situation of the schooner.

As respects her condition, it is easily described. She had but the three
sails bent,--mainsail, foresail, and jib. Her topmasts had been struck,
and all the hamper that belonged to them was below. The mainsail was
single reefed, and the foresail and jib were without their bonnets, as
has already been mentioned. This was somewhat short canvas, but Mulford
knew that it would render his craft more manageable in the event of
a blow. Usually, at that season and in that region, the east trades
prevailed with great steadiness, sometimes diverging a little south of
east, as at present, and generally blowing fresh. But, for a short time
previously to, and ever since the tornado, the wind had been unsettled,
the old currents appearing to regain their ascendancy by fits, and then
losing it, in squalls, contrary currents, and even by short calms.

The conference between Jack Tier and Rose was frank and confidential.

"We must depend mainly on you," said the latter, turning to look toward
the spot where Mulford lay, buried in the deepest sleep that had ever
gained power over him. "Harry is so fatigued! It would be shameful to
awaken him a moment sooner than is necessary."

"Ay, ay; so it is always with young women, when they lets a young man
gain their ears," answered Jack, without the least circumlocution;
"so it is, and so it always will be, I'm afeard. Nevertheless, men is
willians."

Rose was not affronted at this plain allusion to the power that Mulford
had obtained over her feelings. It would seem that Jack had got to be so
intimate in the cabins, that his sex was, in a measure, forgotten; and
it is certain that his recent services were not. Without a question, but
for his interference, the pretty Rose Budd would, at that moment, have
been the prisoner of Spike, and most probably the victim of his design
to compel her to marry him.

"All men are not Stephen Spikes," said Rose, earnestly, "and least of
all is Harry Mulford to be reckoned as one of his sort. But, we must
manage to take care of the schooner the whole night, and let Harry get
his rest. He wished to be called at twelve, but we can easily let the
hour go by, and not awaken him."

"The commanding officer ought not to be sarved so, Miss Rose. What he
says is to be done."

"I know it, Jack, as to ordinary matters; but Harry left these orders
that we might have our share of rest, and for no other reason at all.
And what is to prevent our having it? We are four, and can divide
ourselves into two watches; one watch can sleep while the other keeps a
look-out."

"Ay, ay, and pretty watches they would be! There's Madam Budd, now; why,
she's quite a navigator, and knows all about weerin' and haulin', and I
dares to say could put the schooner about, to keep her off the reef, on
a pinch; though which way the craft would come round, could best be told
a'ter it has been done. It's as much as I'd undertake myself, Miss Rose,
to take care of the schooner, should it come on to blow; and as for you,
Madam Budd, and that squalling Irishwoman, you'd be no better than so
many housewives ashore."

"We have strength, and we have courage, and we can pull, as you have
seen. I know very well which way to put the helm now, and Biddy is as
strong as you are yourself, and could help me all I wished. Then we
could always call you, at need, and have your assistance. Nay, Harry
himself can be called, if there should be a real necessity for it, and I
do wish he may not be disturbed until there is that necessity."

It was with a good deal of reluctance that Jack allowed himself to
be persuaded into this scheme. He insisted, for a long time, that an
officer should be called at the hour mentioned by himself, and declared
he had never known such an order neglected, "marchant-man, privateer, or
man-of-war." Rose prevailed over his scruples, however, and there was a
meeting of the three females to make the final arrangements. Mrs. Budd,
a kind-hearted woman, at the worst, gave her assent most cheerfully,
though Rose was a little startled with the nature of the reasoning, with
which it was accompanied.

"You are quite right, Rosy dear," said the aunt, "and the thing is very
easily done. I've long wanted to keep one watch, at sea; just one watch;
to complete my maritime education. Your poor uncle used to say, 'Give
my wife but one night-watch, and you'd have as good a seaman in her as
heart could wish.' I'm sure I've had night-watches enough with him and
his ailings; but it seems that they were not the sort of watches he
meant. Indeed, I did n't know till this evening there were so many
watches in the world, at all. But this is just what I want, and just
what I'm resolved to have. Tier shall command one watch and I'll command
the other. Jack's shall be the 'dog-watch,' as they call it, and mine
shall be the 'middle-watch,' and last till morning. You shall be in
Jack's watch, Rose, and Biddy shall be in mine. You know a good deal
that Jack do n't know, and Biddy can do a good deal I'm rather too stout
to do. I do n't like pulling ropes, but as for ordering, I'll turn my
back on no captain's widow out of York."

Rose had her own misgivings on the subject of her aunt's issuing orders
on such a subject to any one, but she made the best of necessity, and
completed the arrangements without further discussion. Her great anxiety
was to secure a good night's rest for Harry, already feeling a woman's
care in the comfort and ease of the man she loved. And Rose did love
Harry Mulford warmly and sincerely. If the very decided preference with
which she regarded him before they sailed, had not absolutely amounted
to passion, it had come so very near it as to render that access of
feeling certain, under the influence of the association and events which
succeeded. We have not thought it necessary to relate a tithe of the
interviews and intercourse that had taken place between the handsome
mate and the pretty Rose Budd, during the month they had now been
shipmates, having left the reader to imagine the natural course of
things, under such circumstances. Nevertheless, the plighted troth had
not been actually given until Harry joined her on the islet, at a moment
when she fancied herself abandoned to a fate almost as serious as death.
Rose had seen Mulford quit the brig, had watched the mode and manner of
his escape, and in almost breathless amazement, and felt how dear to
her he had become, by the glow of delight which warmed her heart,
when assured that he could not, would not, forsake her, even though he
remained at the risk of life. She was now, true to the instinct of
her sex, mostly occupied in making such a return for an attachment so
devoted as became her tenderness and the habits of her mind.

As Mrs. Budd chose what she was pleased to term the 'middle-watch,'
giving to Jack Tier and Rose her 'dog-watch,' the two last were first on
duty. It is scarcely necessary to say, the captain's widow got the names
of the watches all wrong, as she got the names of everything else about
a vessel; but the plan was to divide the night equally between these
quasi mariners, giving the first half to those who were first on the
look-out, and the remainder to their successors. It soon became so calm,
that Jack left the helm, and came and sat by Rose, on the trunk, where
they conversed confidentially for a long time. Although the reader will,
hereafter, be enabled to form some plausible conjectures on the subject
of this dialogue, we shall give him no part of it here. All that need
now be said, is to add, that Jack did most of the talking, that his past
life was the principal theme, and that the terrible Stephen Spike, he
from whom they were now so desirous of escaping, was largely mixed up
with the adventures recounted. Jack found in his companion a deeply
interested listener, although this was by no means the first time they
had gone over together the same story and discussed the same events. The
conversation lasted until Tier, who watched the glass, seeing that its
sands had run out for the last time, announced the hour of midnight.
This was the moment when Mulford should have been called, but when Mrs.
Budd and Biddy Noon were actually awakened in his stead.

"Now, dear aunty," said Rose, as she parted from the new watch to go
and catch a little sleep herself, "remember you are not to awaken Harry
first, but to call Tier and myself. It would have done your heart good
to have seen how sweetly he has been sleeping all this time. I do not
think he has stirred once since his head was laid on that bunch of
sails, and there he is, at this moment, sleeping like an infant!"

"Yes," returned the relict, "it is always so with your true maritime
people. I have been sleeping a great deal more soundly, the whole of the
dog-watch, than I ever slept at home, in my own excellent bed. But it's
your watch below, Rosy, and contrary to rule for you to stay on the
deck, after you've been relieved. I've heard this a thousand times."

Rose was not sorry to lie down; and her head was scarcely on its pillow,
in the cabin, before she was fast asleep. As for Jack, he found a place
among Mulford's sails, and was quickly in the same state.

To own the truth, Mrs. Budd was not quite as much at ease, in her new
station, for the first half hour, as she had fancied to herself might
prove to be the case. It was a flat calm, it is true; but the widow felt
oppressed with responsibility and the novelty of her situation. Time and
again had she said, and even imagined, she should be delighted to fill
the very station she then occupied, or to be in charge of a deck, in a
"middle watch." In this instance, however, as in so many others, reality
did not equal anticipation. She wished to be doing everything, but did
not know how to do anything. As for Biddy, she was even worse off than
her mistress. A month's experience, or for that matter a twelvemonth's,
could not unravel to her the mysteries of even a schooner's rigging.
Mrs. Budd had placed her "at the wheel," as she called it, though
the vessel had no wheel, being steered by a tiller on deck, in the
'long-shore fashion. In stationing Biddy, the widow told her that she
was to play "tricks at the wheel," leaving it to the astounded Irish
woman's imagination to discover what those tricks were. Failing in
ascertaining what might be the nature of her "tricks at the wheel,"
Biddy was content to do nothing, and nothing, under the circumstances,
was perhaps the very best thing she could have done.

Little was required to be done for the first four hours of Mrs. Budd's
watch. All that time, Rose slept in her berth, and Mulford and Jack Tier
on their sail, while Biddy had played the wheel a "trick," indeed, by
lying down on deck, and sleeping, too, as soundly as if she were in the
county Down itself. But there was to be an end of this tranquillity.
Suddenly the wind began to blow. At first, the breeze came in fitful
puffs, which were neither very strong nor very lasting. This induced
Mrs. Budd to awaken Biddy. Luckily, a schooner without a topsail could
not very well be taken aback, especially as the head-sheets worked on
travellers, and Mrs. Budd and her assistant contrived to manage the
tiller very well for the first hour that these varying puffs of wind
lasted. It is true, the tiller was lashed, and it is also true, the
schooner ran in all directions, having actually headed to all the
cardinal points of the compass, under her present management. At length,
Mrs. Budd became alarmed. A puff of wind came so strong, as to cause the
vessel to lie over so far as to bring the water into the lee scuppers.
She called Jack Tier herself, therefore, and sent Biddy down to awaken
Rose. In a minute, both these auxiliaries appeared on deck. The wind
just then lulled, and Rose, supposing her aunt was frightened at
trifles, insisted on it that Harry should be permitted to sleep on. He
had turned over once, in the course of the night, but not once had he
raised his head from his pillow.

As soon as reinforced, Mrs. Budd began to bustle about, and to give
commands, such as they were, in order to prove that she was unterrified.
Jack Tier gaped at her elbow, and by way of something to do, he laid his
hand on the painter of the Swash's boat, which boat was towing
astern, and remarked that "some know-nothing had belayed it with three
half-hitches." This was enough for the relict. She had often heard the
saying that "three half-hitches lost the king's long-boat," and she
busied herself, at once, in repairing so imminent an evil. It was far
easier for the good woman to talk than to act; she became what is called
"all fingers and thumbs," and in loosening the third half-hitch, she
cast off the two others. At that instant, a puff of wind struck the
schooner again, and the end of the painter got away from the widow, who
had a last glimpse at the boat, as the vessel darted ahead, leaving its
little tender to vanish in the gloom of the night.

Jack was excessively provoked at this accident, for he had foreseen the
possibility of having recourse to that boat yet, in order to escape from
Spike. By abandoning the schooner, and pulling on to the reef, it might
have been possible to get out of their pursuer's hands, when all other
means should fail them. As he was at the tiller, he put his helm up, and
ran off, until far enough to leeward to be to the westward of the boat,
when he might tack, fetch and recover it. Nevertheless, it now blew much
harder than he liked, for the schooner seemed to be unusually tender.
Had he had the force to do it, he would have brailed the foresail. He
desired Rose to call Mulford, but she hesitated about complying.

"Call him--call the mate, I say," cried out Jack, in a voice that proved
how much he was in earnest. "These puffs come heavy, I can tell you, and
they come often, too. Call him--call him, at once, Miss Rose, for it is
time to tack if we wish to recover the boat. Tell him, too, to brail the
foresail, while we are in stays--that's right; another call will start
him up."

The other call was given, aided by a gentle shake from Rose's hand.
Harry was on his feet in a moment. A passing instant was necessary to
clear his faculties, and to recover the tenor of his thoughts. During
that instant, the mate heard Jack Tier's shrill cry of "Hard a-lee--get
in that foresail--bear a-hand--in with it, I say!"

The wind came rushing and roaring, and the flaps of the canvas were
violent and heavy.

"In with the foresail, I say," shouted Jack Tier. "She files round
like a top, and will be off the wind on the other tack presently. Bear
a-hand!--bear a-hand! It looks black as night to windward."

Mulford then regained all his powers. He sprang to the fore-sheet,
calling on the others for aid. The violent surges produced by the wind
prevented his grasping the sheet as soon as he could wish, and the
vessel whirled round on her heel, like a steed that is frightened.
At that critical and dangerous instant, when the schooner was nearly
without motion through the water, a squall struck the flattened sails,
and bowed her down as the willow bends to the gale. Mrs. Budd and Biddy
screamed as usual, and Jack shouted until his voice seemed cracked, to
"let go the head-sheets." Mulford did make one leap forward, to execute
this necessary office, when the inclining plane of the deck told him
it was too late. The wind fairly howled for a minute, and over went the
schooner, the remains of her cargo shifting as she capsized, in a way to
bring her very nearly bottom upward.

     1. We suppress the names used by Mrs. Budd, out of delicacy
     to the individuals mentioned, who are still living.

CHAPTER VIII.

  Ay, fare you well, fair gentleman.

  As You Like it.

While the tyro believes the vessel is about to capsize at every puff of
wind, the practised seaman alone knows when danger truly besets him in
this particular form. Thus it was with Harry Mulford, when the Mexican
schooner went over, as related in the close of the preceding chapter. He
felt no alarm until the danger actually came. Then, indeed, no one there
was so quickly, or so thoroughly apprized of what the result would be,
and he directed all his exertions to meet the exigency. While there
was the smallest hope of success, he did not lessen, in the least, his
endeavours to save the vessel; making almost superhuman efforts to cast
off the fore-sheet, so as to relieve the schooner from the pressure of
one of her sails. But, no sooner did he hear the barrels in the hold
surging to leeward, and feel by the inclination of the deck beneath his
feet, that nothing could save the craft, than he abandoned the sheet,
and sprang to the assistance of Rose. It was time he did; for, having
followed him into the vessel's lee-waist, she was the first to be
submerged in the sea, and would have been hopelessly drowned, but for
Mulford's timely succour. Women might swim more readily than men, and do
so swim, in those portions of the world where the laws of nature are not
counteracted by human conventions. Rose Budd, however, had received the
vicious education which civilized society inflicts on her sex, and, as a
matter of course, was totally helpless in an element in which it was
the design of Divine Providence she should possess the common means of
sustaining herself, like every other being endued with animal life. Not
so with Mulford: he swam with ease and force, and had no difficulty in
sustaining Rose until the schooner had settled into her new berth, or in
hauling her on the vessel's bottom immediately after.

Luckily, there was no swell, or so little as not to endanger those who
were on the schooner's bilge; and Mulford had no sooner placed her in
momentary safety at least, whom he prized far higher than his own life,
than he bethought him of his other companions. Jack Tier had hauled
himself up to windward by the rope that steadied the tiller, and he had
called on Mrs. Budd to imitate his example. It was so natural for even
a woman to grasp anything like a rope at such a moment, that the widow
instinctively obeyed, while Biddy seized, at random, the first thing of
the sort that offered. Owing to these fortunate chances, Jack and Mrs.
Budd succeeded in reaching the quarter of the schooner, the former
actually getting up on the bottom of the wreck, on to which he was
enabled to float the widow, who was almost as buoyant as cork, as indeed
was the case with Jack himself. All the stern and bows of the vessel
were under water, in consequence of her leanness forward and aft;
but though submerged, she offered a precarious footing, even in these
extremities, to such as could reach them. On the other hand, the place
where Rose stood, or the bilge of the vessel, was two or three feet
above the surface of the sea, though slippery and inclining in shape.

It was not half a minute from the time that Mulford sprang to Rose's
succour, ere he had her on the vessel's bottom. In another half minute,
he had waded down on the schooner's counter, where Jack Tier was lustily
calling to him for "help!" and assisted the widow to her feet, and
supported her until she stood at Rose's side. Leaving the last in her
aunt's arms, half distracted between dread and joy, he turned to the
assistance of Biddy. The rope at which the Irish woman had caught, was
a straggling end that had been made fast to the main channels of the
schooner, for the support of a fender, and had been hauled partly
in-board to keep it out of the water. Biddy had found no difficulty in
dragging herself up to the chains, therefore; and had she been content
to sustain herself by the rope, leaving as much of her body submerged as
comported with breathing, her task would have been easy. But, like most
persons who do not know how to swim, the good woman was fast exhausting
her strength, by vain efforts to walk on the surface of an element that
was never made to sustain her. Unpractised persons, in such situations,
cannot be taught to believe that their greatest safety is in leaving as
much of their bodies as possible beneath the water, keeping the mouth
and nose alone free for breath. But we have seen even instances in
which men, who were in danger of drowning, seemed to believe it might be
possible for them to craw! over the waves on their hands and knees.
The philosophy of the contrary course is so very simple, that one would
fancy a very child might be made to comprehend it; yet, it is rare to
find one unaccustomed to the water, and who is suddenly exposed to its
dangers, that does not resort, under the pressure of present alarm, to
the very reverse of the true means to save his or her life.

Mulford had no difficulty in finding Bridget, whose exclamations of
"murther!" "help!" "he-l-lup!" "Jasus!" and other similar cries, led
him directly to the spot, where she was fast drowning herself by her own
senseless struggles. Seizing her by the arm, the active young mate soon
placed her on her feet, though her cries did not cease until she was
ordered by her mistress to keep silence.

Having thus rescued the whole of his companions from immediate danger,
Mulford began to think of the future. He was seized with sudden surprise
that the vessel did not sink, and for a minute he was unable to account
for the unusual fact. On the former occasion, the schooner had gone
down almost as soon as she fell over; but now she floated with so much
buoyancy as to leave most of her keel and all of her bilge on one side
quite clear of the water. As one of the main hatches was off, and the
cabin-doors, and booby-hatch doors forward were open, and all were
under water, it required a little reflection on the part of Mulford to
understand on what circumstance all their lives now depended. The mate
soon ascertained the truth, however, and we may as well explain it to
the reader in our own fashion, in order to put him on a level with the
young seaman.

The puff of wind, or little squall, had struck the schooner at the
most unfavourable moment for her safety. She had just lost her way in
tacking, and the hull not moving ahead, as happens when a craft is thus
assailed with the motion on her, all the power of the wind was expended
in the direction necessary to capsize her. Another disadvantage arose
from the want of motion. The rudder, which acts solely by pressing
against the water as the vessel meets it, was useless, and it was not
possible to luff, and throw the wind from the sails, as is usually
practised by fore-and-aft rigged craft, in moments of such peril. In
consequence of these united difficulties, the shifting of the cargo
in the hold, the tenderness of the craft itself, and the force of the
squall, the schooner had gone so far over as to carry all three of the
openings to her interior suddenly under water, where they remained, held
by the pressure of the cargo that had rolled to leeward. Had not the
water completely covered these openings, or hatches, the schooner must
have sunk in a minute or two, or by the time Mulford had got all his
companions safe on her bilge. But they were completely submerged, and
so continued to be, which circumstance alone prevented the vessel from
sinking, as the following simple explanation will show.

Any person who will put an empty tumbler, bottom upwards, into a bucket
of water, will find that the water will not rise within the tumbler more
than an inch at most. At that point it is arrested by the resistance of
the air, which, unable to escape, and compressed into a narrow compass,
forms a body that the other fluid cannot penetrate. It is on this simple
and familiar principle, that the chemist keeps his gases, in inverted
glasses, placing them on shelves, slightly submerged in water. Thus it
was, then, that the schooner continued to float, though nearly bottom
upward, and with three inlets open, by which the water could and did
penetrate. A considerable quantity of the element had rushed in at the
instant of capsizing, but meeting with resistance from the compressed
and pent air, its progress had been arrested, and the wreck continued to
float, sustained by the buoyancy that was imparted to it, in containing
so large a body of a substance no heavier than atmospheric air. After
displacing its weight of water, enough of buoyancy remained to raise the
keel a few feet above the level of the sea.

As soon as Mulford had ascertained the facts of their situation, he
communicated them to his companions, encouraging them to hope for
eventual safety. It was true, their situation was nearly desperate,
admitting that the wreck should continue to float for ever, since they
were almost without food, or anything to drink, and had no means of
urging the hull through the water. They must float, too, at the mercy
of the winds and waves, and should a sea get up, it might soon be
impossible for Mulford himself to maintain his footing on the bottom
of the wreck. All this the young man had dimly shadowed forth to him,
through his professional experience; but the certainty of the vessel's
not sinking immediately had so far revived his spirits, as to cause him
to look on the bright side of the future, pale as that glimmering of
hope was made to appear whenever reason cast one of its severe glances
athwart it.

Harry had no difficulty in making Rose comprehend their precise
situation. Her active and clear mind understood at once the causes of
their present preservation, and most of the hazards of the future. It
was not so with Jack Tier. He was composed, even resigned; but he could
not see the reason why the schooner still floated.

"I know that the cabin-doors were open," he said, "and if they wasn't,
of no great matter would it be, since the joints ar'n't caulked, and
the water would run through them as through a sieve. I'm afeard, Mr.
Mulford, we shall find the wreck going from under our feet afore long,
and when we least wish it, perhaps."

"I tell you the wreck will float so long as the air remains in its
hold," returned the mate, cheerfully. "Do you not see how buoyant it
is?--the certain proof that there is plenty of air within. So long as
that remains, the hull must float."

"I've always understood," said Jack, sticking to his opinion, "that
wessels floats by vartue of water, and not by vartue of air; and, that
when the water gets on the wrong side on 'em, there's little hope left
of keepin' 'em up."

"What has become of the boat?" suddenly cried the mate. "I have been so
much occupied as to have forgotten the boat. In that boat we might all
of us still reach Key West. I see nothing of the boat!"

A profound silence succeeded this sudden and unexpected question. All
knew that the boat was gone, and all knew that it had been lost by the
widow's pertinacity and clumsiness; but no one felt disposed to betray
her at that grave moment. Mulford left the bilge, and waded as far aft
as it was at all prudent for him to proceed, in the vain hope that the
boat might be there, fastened by its painter to the schooner's tafferel,
as he had left it, but concealed from view by the darkness of the night.
Not finding what he was after, he returned to his companions, still
uttering exclamations of surprise at the unaccountable loss of the
boat. Rose now told him that the boat had got adrift some ten or fifteen
minutes before the accident befell them, and that they were actually
endeavouring to recover it when the squall which capsized the schooner
struck them.

"And why did you not call me, Rose?" asked Harry, with a little of
gentle reproach in his manner. "It must have soon been my watch on deck,
and it would have been better that I should lose half an hour of my
watch below, than that we should lose the boat."

Rose was now obliged to confess that the time for calling him had long
been past, and that the faint streak of light, which was just appearing
in the east, was the near approach of day. This explanation was made
gently, but frankly; and Mulford experienced a glow of pleasure at his
heart, even in that moment of jeopardy, when he understood Rose's motive
for not having him disturbed. As the boat was gone, with little or no
prospect of its being recovered again, no more was said about it;
and the window, who had stood on thorns the while, had the relief of
believing that her awkwardness was forgotten.

It was such a relief from an imminent danger to have escaped from
drowning when the schooner capsized, that those on her bottom did not,
for some little time, realize all the terrors of their actual situation.
The inconvenience of being wet was a trifle not to be thought of, and,
in fact, the light summer dresses worn by all, linen or cotton as they
were entirely, were soon effectually dried in the wind. The keel made a
tolerably convenient seat, and the whole party placed themselves on it
to await the return of day, in order to obtain a view of all that their
situation offered in the way of a prospect. While thus awaiting, a
broken and short dialogue occurred.

"Had you stood to the northward the whole night?" asked Mulford,
gloomily, of Jack Tier; for gloomily he began to feel, as all the facts
of their case began to press more closely on his mind. "If so, we must
be well off the reef, and out of the track of wreckers and turtlers. How
had you the wind, and how did you head before the accident happened?"

"The wind was light the whole time, and for some hours it was nearly
calm," answered Jack, in the same vein; "I kept the schooner's head to
the nor'ard, until I thought we were getting too far off our course,
and then I put her about. I do not think we could have been any great
distance from the reef, when the boat got away from us, and I suppose we
are in its neighbourhood now, for I was tacking to fall in with the boat
when the craft went over."

"To fall in with the boat! Did you keep off to leeward of it, then, that
you expected to fetch it by tacking?"

"Ay, a good bit; and I think the boat is now away here to windward of
us, drifting athwart our bows."

This was important news to Mulford. Could he only get that boat, the
chances of being saved would be increased a hundred fold, nay, would
almost amount to a certainty; whereas, so long as the wind held to the
southward and eastward, the drift of the wreck must be toward the open
water, and consequently so much the further removed from the means of
succor. The general direction of the trades, in that quarter of the
world, is east, and should they get round into their old and proper
quarter, it would not benefit them much; for the reef running
south-west, they could scarcely hope to hit the Dry Tortugas again, in
their drift, were life even spared them sufficiently long to float the
distance. Then there might be currents, about which Mulford knew nothing
with certainty; they might set them in any direction; and did they
exist, as was almost sure to be the case, were much more powerful than
the wind in controlling the movements of a wreck.

The mate strained his eyes in the direction pointed out by Jack Tier, in
the hope of discovering the boat through the haze of the morning, and
he actually did discern something that, it appeared to him, might be the
much desired little craft. If he were right, there was every reason to
think the boat would drift down so near them as to enable him to recover
it by swimming. This cheering intelligence was communicated to his
companions, who received it with gratitude and delight. But the approach
of day gradually dispelled that hope, the object which Mulford had
mistaken for the boat, within two hundred yards of the wreck, turning
out to be a small, low, but bare hummock of the reef, at a distance of
more than two miles.

"That is a proof that we are not far from the reef, at least," cried
Mulford, willing to encourage those around him all he could, and really
much relieved at finding himself so near even this isolated fragment
of terra firma. "This fact is the next encouraging thing to finding
ourselves near the boat, or to falling in with a sail."

"Ay, ay," said Jack, gloomily; "boat or no boat, 't will make no great
matter of difference now. There's customers that'll be sartain to take
all the grists you can send to their mill."

"What things are those glancing about the vessel?" cried Rose, almost in
the same breath; "those dark, sharp-looking sticks--see, there are five
or six of them! and they move as if fastened to something under the
water that pulls them about."

"Them's the customers I mean, Miss Rose," answered Jack, in the same
strain as that in which he had first spoken; "they're the same thing at
sea as lawyers be ashore, and seem made to live on other folks. Them's
sharks."

"And yonder is truly the boat!" added Mulford, with a sigh that almost
amounted to a groan. The light had, by this time, so far returned as to
enable the party not only to see the fins of half a dozen sharks, which
were already prowling about the wreck, the almost necessary consequence
of their proximity to a reef in that latitude, but actually to discern
the boat drifting down toward them, at a distance that promised to carry
it past, within the reach of Mulford's powers of swimming, though not as
near as he could have wished, even under more favourable circumstances.
Had their extremity been greater, or had Rose begun to suffer from
hunger or thirst, Mulford might have attempted the experiment of
endeavoring to regain the boat, though the chances of death by means of
the sharks would be more than equal to those of escape; but still fresh,
and not yet feeling even the heat of the sun of that low latitude, he
was not quite goaded into such an act of desperation. All that remained
for the party, therefore, was to sit on the keel of the wreck, and gaze
with longing eyes at a little object floating past, which, once at their
command, might so readily be made to save them from a fate that already
began to appear terrible in the perspective. Near an hour was thus
consumed, ere the boat was about half a mile to leeward; during which
scarcely an eye was turned from it for one instant, or a word was
spoken.

"It is beyond my reach now," Mulford at length exclaimed, sighing
heavily, like one who became conscious of some great and irretrievable
loss. "Were there no sharks, I could hardly venture to attempt swimming
so far, with the boat drifting from me at the same time."

"I should never consent to let you make the trial, Harry," murmured
Rose, "though it were only half as far."

Another pause succeeded.

"We have now the light of day," resumed the mate, a minute or two later,
"and may see our true situation. No sail is in sight, and the wind
stands steadily in its old quarter. Still I do not think we leave the
reef. There, you may see breakers off here at the southward, and it
seems as if more rocks rise above the sea, in that direction. I do
not know that our situation would be any the better, however, were we
actually on them, instead of being on this floating wreck."

"The rocks will never sink," said Jack Tier, with so much emphasis as to
startle the listeners.

"I do not think this hull will sink until we are taken off it, or are
beyond caring whether it sink or swim," returned Mulford.

"I do not know that, Mr. Mulford. Nothing keeps us up but the air in the
hold, you say."

"Certainly not; but that air will suffice as long as it remains there."

"And what do you call these things?" rejoined the assistant steward,
pointing at the water near him, in or on which no one else saw anything
worthy of attention.

Mulford, however, was not satisfied with a cursory glance, but went
nearer to the spot where Tier was standing. Then, indeed, he saw to what
the steward alluded, and was impressed by it, though he said nothing.
Hundreds of little bubbles rose to the surface of the water, much as one
sees them rising in springs. These bubbles are often met with in lakes
and other comparatively shallow waters, but they are rarely seen in
those of the ocean. The mate understood, at a glance, that those he
now beheld were produced by the air which escaped from the hold of the
wreck; in small quantities at a time, it was true, but by a constant
and increasing process. The great pressure of the water forced this
air through crevices so minute that, under ordinary circumstances, they
would have proved impenetrable to this, as they were still to the other
fluid, though they now permitted the passage of the former. It might
take a long time to force the air from the interior of the vessel
by such means, but the result was as certain as it might be slow. As
constant dropping will wear a stone, so might the power that kept
the wreck afloat be exhausted by the ceaseless rising of these minute
air-bubbles.

Although Mulford was entirely sensible of the nature of this new source
of danger, we cannot say he was much affected by it at the moment. It
seemed to him far more probable that they must die of exhaustion, long
before the wreck would lose all of its buoyancy by this slow process,
than that even the strongest of their number could survive for such a
period. The new danger, therefore, lost most of its terrors under this
view of the subject, though it certainly did not add to the small sense
of security that remained, to know that inevitably their fate must
be sealed through its agency, should they be able to hold out for a
sufficient time against hunger and thirst. It caused Mulford to muse in
silence for many more minutes.

"I hope we are not altogether without food," the mate at length said.
"It sometimes happens that persons at sea carry pieces of biscuit in
their pockets, especially those who keep watch at night. The smallest
morsel is now of the last importance."

At this suggestion, every one set about an examination. The result was,
that neither Mrs. Budd nor Rose had a particle of food, of any sort,
about their persons. Biddy produced from her pockets, however, a whole
biscuit, a large bunch of excellent raisins that she had filched from
the steward's stores, and two apples,--the last being the remains of
some fruit that Spike had procured a month earlier in New York. Mulford
had half a biscuit, at which he had been accustomed to nibble in his
watches; and Jack lugged out, along with a small plug of tobacco, a
couple of sweet oranges. Here, then, was everything in the shape of
victuals or drink, that could be found for the use of five persons, in
all probability for many days. The importance of securing it for equal
distribution, was so obvious, that Mulford's proposal to do so met
with a common assent. The whole was put in Mrs. Budd's bag, and she was
intrusted with the keeping of this precious store.

"It may be harder to abstain from food at first, when we have not
suffered from its want, than it will become after a little endurance,"
said the mate. "We are now strong, and it will be wiser to fast as long
as we conveniently can, to-day, and relieve our hunger by a moderate
allowance toward evening, than to waste our means by too much indulgence
at a time when we are strong. Weakness will be sure to come if we remain
long on the wreck."

"Have you ever suffered in this way, Harry?" demanded Rose, with
interest.

"I have, and that dreadfully. But a merciful Providence came to my
rescue then, and it may not fail me now. The seaman is accustomed to
carry his life in his hand, and to live on the edge of eternity."

The truth of this was so apparent as to produce a thoughtful silence.
Anxious glances were cast around the horizon from time to time, in quest
of any sail that might come in sight, but uselessly. None appeared,
and the day advanced without bringing the slightest prospect of relief.
Mulford could see, by the now almost sunken hummocks, that they were
slowly drifting along the reef, toward the southward and eastward, a
current no doubt acting slightly from the north-west. Their proximity
to the reef, however, was of no advantage, as the distance was still
so great as to render any attempt to reach it, even on the part of the
mate, unavailable. Nor would he have been any better off could he have
gained a spot on the rocks that was shallow enough to admit of his
walking, since wading about in such a place would have been less
desirable than to be floating where he was.

The want of water to drink threatened to be the great evil. Of this, the
party on the wreck had not a single drop! As the warmth of the day
was added to the feverish feeling produced by excitement, they all
experienced thirst, though no one murmured. So utterly without means of
relieving this necessity did each person know them all to be, that no
one spoke on the subject at all. In fact, shipwreck never produced
a more complete destitution of all the ordinary agents of helping
themselves, in any form or manner, than was the case here. So sudden and
complete had been the disaster, that not a single article, beyond those
on the persons of the sufferers, came even in view. The masts, sails,
rigging, spare spars, in a word, everything belonging to the vessel was
submerged and hidden from their sight, with the exception of a portion
of the vessel's bottom, which might be forty feet in length, and some
ten or fifteen in width, including that which was above water on both
sides of the keel, though one only of these sides was available to the
females, as a place to move about on. Had Mulford only a boat-hook, he
would have felt it a relief; for not only did the sharks increase in
number, but they grew more audacious, swimming so near the wreck that,
more than once, Mulford apprehended that some one of the boldest of them
might make an effort literally to board them. It is true, he had never
known of one of these fishes attempting to quit his own element in
pursuit of his prey; but such things were reported, and those around the
wreck swam so close, and seemed so eager to get at those who were on it,
that there really might be some excuse for fancying they might resort to
unusual means of effecting their object. It is probable that, like
all other animals, they were emboldened by their own numbers, and were
acting in a sort of concert, that was governed by some of the many
mysterious laws of nature that have still escaped human observation.

Thus passed the earlier hours of that appalling day. Toward noon,
Mulford had insisted on the females dividing one of the oranges between
them, and extracting its juice by way of assuaging their thirst. The
effect was most grateful, as all admitted, and even Mrs. Budd urged
Harry and Tier to take a portion of the remaining orange; but this both
steadily refused. Mulford did consent to receive a small portion of one
of the apples, more with a view of moistening his throat than to appease
his hunger, though it had, in a slight degree, the latter effect also.
As for Jack Tier, he declined even the morsel of apple, saying that
tobacco answered his purpose, as indeed it temporarily might.

It was near sunset, when the steward's assistant called Mulford aside,
and whispered to him that he had something private to communicate. The
mate bade him say on, as they were out of ear-shot of their companions.

"I've been in sitiations like this afore," said Jack, "and one l'arns
exper'ence by exper'ence. I know how cruel it is on the feelin's to have
the hopes disapp'inted in these cases, and therefore shall proceed with
caution. But, Mr. Mulford, there's a sail in sight, if there is a drop
of water in the Gulf!"

"A sail, Jack! I trust in Heaven you are not deceived!"

"Old eyes are true eyes in such matters, sir. Be careful not to start
the women. They go off like gunpowder, and, Lord help 'em! have no
more command over themselves, when you loosen 'em once, than so many
flying-fish with a dozen dolphins a'ter them. Look hereaway, sir, just
clear of the Irishwoman's bonnet, a little broad off the spot where the
reef was last seen--if that an't a sail, my flame is not Jack Tier."

A sail there was, sure enough! It was so very distant, however, as to
render its character still uncertain, though Mulford fancied it was a
square-rigged vessel heading to the northward. By its position, it must
be in one of the channels of the reef, and by its course, if he were
not deceived, it was standing through, from the main passage along the
southern side of the rocks, to come out on the northern. All this was
favourable, and at first the young mate felt such a throbbing of the
heart as we all experience when great and unexpected good intelligence
is received. A moment's reflection, however, made him aware how little
was to be hoped for from this vessel. In the first place, her distance
was so great as to render it uncertain even which way she was steering.
Then, there was the probability that she would pass at so great a
distance as to render it impossible to perceive an object as low as the
wreck, and the additional chance of her passing in the night. Under all
the circumstances, therefore, Mulford felt convinced that there was very
little probability of their receiving any succour from the strange sail;
and he fully appreciated Jack Tier's motive in forbearing to give the
usual call of "Sail, ho!" when he made this discovery. Still, he could
not deny himself the pleasure of communicating to Rose the cheering
fact that a vessel was actually in sight. She could not reason on the
circumstances as he had done, and might at least pass several hours of
comparative happiness by believing that there was some visible chance of
delivery.

The females received the intelligence with very different degrees of
hope. Rose was delighted. To her their rescue appeared an event so very
probable now, that Harry Mulford almost regretted he had given rise
to an expectation which he himself feared was to be disappointed. The
feelings of Mrs. Budd were more suppressed. The wreck and her present
situation were so completely at variance with all her former notions of
the sea and its incidents, that she was almost dumb-founded, and
feared either to speak or to think. Biddy differed from either of her
mistresses--the young or the old; she appeared to have lost all hope,
and her physical energy was fast giving way under her profound moral
debility.

From the return of light that day, Mulford had thought, if it were
to prove that Providence had withdrawn its protecting hand from them,
Biddy, who to all appearance ought to be the longest liver among the
females at least, would be the first to sink under her sufferings. Such
is the influence of moral causes on the mere animal.

Rose saw the night shut in around them, amid the solemn solitude of
the ocean, with a mingled sensation of awe and hope. She had prayed
devoutly, and often, in the course of the preceding day, and her
devotions had contributed to calm her spirits. Once or twice, while
kneeling with her head bowed to the keel, she had raised her eyes toward
Harry with a look of entreaty, as if she would implore him to humble his
proud spirit and place himself at her side, and ask that succour from
God which was so much needed, and which indeed it began most seriously
to appear that God alone could yield. The young mate did not comply,
for his pride of profession and of manhood offered themselves as
stumbling-blocks to prevent submission to his secret wishes. Though he
rarely prayed, Harry Mulford was far from being an unbeliever, or
one altogether regardless of his duties and obligations to his Divine
Creator. On the contrary, his heart was more disposed to resort to such
means of self-abasement and submission, than he put in practice, and
this because he had been taught to believe that the Anglo-Saxon mariner
did not call on Hercules, on every occasion of difficulty and distress
that occurred, as was the fashion with the Italian and Romish seamen,
but he put his own shoulder to the wheel, confident that Hercules would
not forget to help him who knew how to help himself. But Harry had great
difficulty in withstanding Rose's silent appeal that evening, as she
knelt at the keel for the last time, and turned her gentle eyes upward
at him, as if to ask him once more to take his place at her side.
Withstand the appeal he did, however, though in his inward spirit he
prayed fervently to God to put away this dreadful affliction from the
young and innocent creature before him. When these evening devotions
were ended, the whole party became thoughtful and silent.

It was necessary to sleep, and arrangements were made to do so, if
possible, with a proper regard for their security. Mulford and Tier
were to have the look-out, watch and watch. This was done that no vessel
might pass near them unseen, and that any change in the weather might be
noted and looked to. As it was, the wind had fallen, and seemed about to
vary, though it yet stood in its old quarter, or a little more easterly,
perhaps. As a consequence, the drift of the wreck, insomuch as it
depended on the currents of the air, was more nearly in a line with the
direction of the reef, and there was little ground for apprehending that
they might be driven further from it in the night. Although that reef
offered in reality no place of safety, that was available to his party,
Mulford felt it as a sort of relief, to be certain that it was not
distant, possibly influenced by a vague hope that some passing wrecker
or turtler might yet pick them up.

The bottom of the schooner and the destitute condition of the party
admitted of only very simple arrangements for the night. The females
placed themselves against the keel in the best manner they could, and
thus endeavoured to get a little of the rest they so much needed. The
day had been warm, as a matter of course, and the contrast produced by
the setting of the sun was at first rather agreeable than otherwise.
Luckily Rose had thrown a shawl over her shoulders, not long before
the vessel capsized, and in this shawl she had been saved. It had been
dried, and it now served for a light covering to herself and her aunt,
and added essentially to their comfort. As for Biddy, she was too hardy
to need a shawl, and she protested that she should not think of using
one, had she been better provided. The patient, meek manner in which
that humble, but generous-hearted creature submitted to her fate, and
the earnestness with which she had begged that "Miss Rosy" might have
her morsel of the portion of biscuit each received for a supper, had
sensibly impressed Mulford in her favour; and knowing how much more
necessary food was to sustain one of her robust frame and sturdy habits,
than to Rose, he had contrived to give the woman, unknown to herself, a
double allowance. Nor was it surprising that Biddy did not detect this
little act of fraud in her favour, for this double allowance was merely
a single mouthful. The want of water had made itself much more
keenly felt than the want of food, for as yet anxiety, excitement and
apprehension prevented the appetite from being much awakened, while the
claims of thirst were increased rather than the reverse, by these very
causes. Still, no one had complained, on this or any other account,
throughout the whole of the long and weary day which had passed.

Mulford took the first look-out, with the intention of catching a
little sleep, if possible, during the middle hours of the night, and of
returning to his duty as morning approached. For the first hour nothing
occurred to divert his attention from brooding on the melancholy
circumstances of their situation. It seemed as if all around him had
actually lost the sense of their cares in sleep, and no sound was
audible amid that ocean waste, but the light washing of the water, as
the gentle waves rolled at intervals against the weather side of the
wreck. It was now that Mulford found a moment for prayer, and seated
on the keel, that he called on the Divine aid, in a fervent but silent
petition to God, to put away this trial from the youthful and beautiful
Rose, at least, though he himself perished. It was the first prayer that
Mulford had made in many months, or since he had joined the Swash--a
craft in which that duty was very seldom thought of.

A few minutes succeeded this petition, when Biddy spoke.

"Missus--Madam Budd--dear Missus"--half whispered the Irish woman,
anxious not to disturb Rose, who lay furthest from her--"Missus, bees ye
asleep at sich a time as this?"

"No, Biddy; sleep and I are strangers to each other, and are likely to
be till morning. What do you wish to say?"

"Anything is better than my own t'oughts, missus dear, and I wants to
talk to ye. Is it no wather at all they'll give us so long as we stay in
this place?"

"There is no one to give it to us but God, poor Biddy, and he alone can
say what, in his gracious mercy, it may please him to do. Ah! Biddy,
I fear me that I did an unwise and thoughtless thing, to bring my poor
Rose to such a place as this. Were it to be done over again, the riches
of Wall Street would not tempt me to be guilty of so wrong a thing!"

The arm of Rose was thrown around her aunt's neck, and its gentle
pressure announced how completely the offender was forgiven.

"I's very sorry for Miss Rose," rejoined Biddy "and I suffers so much
the more meself in thinking how hard it must be for the like of her to
be wantin' in a swallow of fresh wather."

"It is no harder for me to bear it, poor Biddy," answered the gentle
voice of our heroine, "than it is for yourself."

"Is it meself then? Sure am I, that if I had a quar-r-t of good, swate
wather from our own pump, and that's far betther is it than the Crothon
the best day the Crothon ever seed--but had I a quar-r-t of it, every
dhrap would I give to you, Miss Rose, to app'ase your thirst, I would."

"Water would be a great relief to us all, just now, my excellent Biddy,"
answered Rose, "and I wish we had but a tumbler full of that you name,
to divide equally among the whole five of us."

"Is it divide? Then it would be ag'in dividin' that my voice would be
raised, for that same ra'son that the tumbler would never hold as much
as you could dhrink yourself, Miss Rose."

"Yet the tumbler full would be a great blessing for us all, just now,"
murmured Mrs. Budd.

"And is n't mutthon good 'atin', ladies! Och! if I had but a good swate
pratie, now, from my own native Ireland, and a dhrap of milk to help
wash it down! It's mighty little that a body thinks of sich thrifles
when there's abundance of them; but when there's none at all, they get
to be stronger in the mind than riches and honours."

"You say the truth, Biddy," rejoined the mistress, "and there is a
pleasure in talking of them, if one can't enjoy them. I've been thinking
all the afternoon, Rose, what a delicious food is a good roast turkey,
with cranberry sauce; and I wonder, now, that I have not been more
grateful for the very many that Providence has bestowed on me in my
time. My poor Mr. Budd was passionately fond of mutton, and I used
wickedly to laugh at his fondness for it, sometimes, when he always had
his answer ready, and that was that there are no sheep at sea. How true
that is, Rosy dear! there are indeed no sheep at sea!"

"No, aunty," answered Rose's gentle voice from beneath the
shawl;--"there are no such animals on the ocean, but God is with us here
as much as he would be in New York."

A long silence succeeded this simple remark of his well beloved, and
the young mate hoped that there would be no more of a dialogue, every
syllable of which was a dagger to his feelings. But nature was stronger
than reflection in Mrs. Budd and Biddy, and the latter spoke again,
after a pause of near a quarter of an hour.

"Pray for me, Missus," she said, moaningly, "that I may sleep. A bit of
sleep would do a body almost as much good as a bit of bread--I won't say
as much as a dhrap of wather."

"Be quiet, Biddy, and we will pray for you," answered Rose, who fancied
by her breathing that her aunt was about to forget her sufferings for a
brief space, in broken slumbers.

"Is it for you I'll do that--and sure will I, Miss Rose. Niver would I
have quitted Ireland, could I have thought there was sich a spot on this
earth as a place where no wather was to be had."

This was the last of Biddy's audible complaints, for the remainder of
this long and anxious watch of Mulford. He then set himself about an
arrangement which shall be mentioned in its proper place. At twelve
o'clock, or when he thought it was twelve, he called Jack Tier, who in
turn called the mate again at four.

"It looks dark and threatening," said Mulford, as he rose to his feet
and began to look about him once more, "though there does not appear to
be any wind."

"It's a flat calm, Mr. Mate, and the darkness comes from yonder cloud,
which seems likely to bring a little rain."

"Rain! Then God is indeed with us here. You are right, Jack; rain must
fall from that cloud. We must catch some of it, if it be only a drop to
cool Rose's parched tongue."

"In what?" answered Tier, gloomily. "She may wring her clothes when the
shower is over, and in that way get a drop. I see no other method."

"I have bethought me of all that, and passed most of my watch in making
the preparations."

Mulford then showed Tier what he had been about, in the long and
solitary hours of the first watch. It would seem that the young man
had dug a little trench with his knife, along the schooner's bottom,
commencing two or three feet from the keel, and near the spot where
Rose was lying, and carrying it as far as was convenient toward the run,
until he reached a point where he had dug out a sort of reservoir to
contain the precious fluid, should any be sent them by Providence. While
doing this, there were no signs of rain; but the young man knew that a
shower alone could save them from insanity, if not from death; and in
speculating on the means of profiting by one, should it come, he had
bethought him of this expedient. The large knife of a seaman had served
him a good turn, in carrying on his work, to complete which there
remained now very little to do, and that was in enlarging the receptacle
for the water. The hole was already big enough to contain a pint, and it
might easily be sufficiently enlarged to hold double that quantity.

Jack was no sooner made acquainted with what had been done, than he out
knife and commenced tearing splinter after splinter from the planks, to
help enlarge the reservoir. This could only be done by cutting on
the surface, for the wood was not three inches in thickness, and the
smallest hole through the plank, would have led to the rapid escape of
the air and to the certain sinking of the wreck. It required a good
deal of judgment to preserve the necessary level also, and Mulford was
obliged to interfere more than once to prevent his companion from doing
more harm than good. He succeeded, however, and had actually made a
cavity that might contain more than a quart of water, when the first
large drop fell from the heavens. This cavity was not a hole, but a
long, deep trench--deep for the circumstances--so nicely cut on the
proper level, as to admit of its holding a fluid in the quantity
mentioned.

"Rose--dearest--rise, and be ready to drink," said Mulford, tenderly
disturbing the uneasy slumbers of his beloved. "It is about to rain, and
God is with us here, as he might be on the land."

"Wather!" exclaimed Biddy, who was awoke with the same call. "What a
blessed thing is good swate wather, and sure am I we ought all to be
thankful that there is such a precious gift in the wor-r-ld."

"Come, then," said Mulford, hurriedly, "it will soon rain--I hear it
pattering on the sea. Come hither, all of you, and drink, as a merciful
God furnishes the means."

This summons was not likely to be neglected. All arose in haste, and the
word "water" was murmured from every lip. Biddy had less self-command
than the others, and she was heard saying aloud,--"Och! and did n't
I dhrame of the blessed springs and wells of Ireland the night, and
haven't I dhrunk at 'em all? but now it's over, and I am awake, no good
has't done me, and I'm ready to die for one dhrap of wather."

That drop soon came, however, and with it the blessed relief which such
a boon bestows. Mulford had barely time to explain his arrangements, and
to place the party on their knees, along his little reservoir and the
gutter which led to it, when the pattering of the rain advanced along
the sea, with a deep rushing sound. Presently, the uplifted faces and
open mouths caught a few heavy straggling drops, to cool the parched
tongues, when the water came tumbling down upon them in a thousand
little streams. There was scarcely any wind, and merely the skirt of a
large black cloud floated over the wreck, on which the rain fell barely
one minute. But it fell as rain comes down within the tropics, and in
sufficient quantities for all present purposes. Everybody drank, and
found relief, and, when all was over, Mulford ascertained by examination
that his receptacle for the fluid was still full to overflowing. The
abstinence had not been of sufficient length, nor the quantity taken of
large enough amount, to produce injury, though the thirst was generally
and temporarily appeased. It is probable that the coolness of the hour,
day dawning as the cloud moved past, and the circumstance that the
sufferers were wetted to their skins, contributed to the change.

"Oh, blessed, blessed wather!" exclaimed Biddy, as she rose from her
knees; "America, afther all, isn't as dhry a country as some say. I've
niver tasted swater wather in Ireland itself!"

Rose murmured her thanksgiving in more appropriate language. A few
exclamations also escaped Mrs. Budd, and Jack Tier had his sententious
eulogy on the precious qualities of sweet water.

The wind rose as the day advanced, and a swell began to heave the wreck
with a power that had hitherto been dormant. Mulford understood this to
be a sign that there had been a blow at some distance from them, that
had thrown the sea into a state of agitation, which extended itself
beyond the influence of the wind. Eagerly did the young mate examine the
horizon, as the curtain of night arose, inch by inch, as it might be,
on the watery panorama, in the hope that a vessel of some sort or other
might be brought within the view. Nor was he wholly disappointed. The
strange sail seen the previous evening was actually there; and what was
more, so near as to allow her hull to be distinctly visible. It was a
ship, under her square canvas, standing from between divided portions of
the reef, as if getting to the northward, in order to avoid the opposing
current of the Gulf Stream. Vessels bound to Mobile, New Orleans, and
other ports along the coast of the Republic, in that quarter of the
ocean, often did this; and when the young mate first caught glimpses of
the shadowy outline of this ship, he supposed it to be some packet, or
cotton-droger, standing for her port on the northern shore. But a few
minutes removed the veil, and with it the error of this notion. A seaman
could no longer mistake the craft. Her length, her square and massive
hamper, with the symmetry of her spars, and the long, straight outline
of the hull, left no doubt that it was a cruiser, with her hammocks
unstowed. Mulford now cheerfully announced to his companions, that the
ship they so plainly saw, scarcely a gun-shot distant from them, was the
sloop-of-war which had already become a sort of an acquaintance.

"If we can succeed in making them see our signal," cried Mulford, "all
will yet be well. Come, Jack, and help me to put abroad this shawl, the
only ensign we can show."

The shawl of Rose was the signal spread. Tier and Mulford stood on the
keel, and holding opposite corners, let the rest of the cloth blow out
with the wind. For near an hour did these two extend their arms, and
try all possible expedients to make their signal conspicuous. But,
unfortunately, the wind blew directly toward the cruiser, and instead of
exposing a surface of any breadth to the vision of those on board her,
it must, at most, have offered little more than a flitting, waving line.

As the day advanced, sail was made on the cruiser. She had stood through
the passage, in which she had been becalmed most of the night,
under short canvas; but now she threw out fold after fold of her
studding-sails, and moved away to the westward, with the stately motion
of a ship before the wind. No sooner had she got far enough to the
northward of the reef, than she made a deviation from her course
as first seen, turning her stern entirely to the wreck, and rapidly
becoming less and less distinct to the eyes of those who floated on it.

Mulford saw the hopelessness of their case, as it respected relief from
this vessel; still, he persevered in maintaining his position on the
keel, tossing and waving the shawl, in all the variations that his
ingenuity could devise. He well knew, however, that their chances of
being seen would have been trebled could they have been ahead instead
of astern of the ship. Mariners have few occasions to look behind them,
while a hundred watchful eyes are usually turned ahead, more especially
when running near rocks and shoals. Mrs. Budd wept like an infant when
she saw the sloop-of-war gliding away, reaching a distance that rendered
sight useless, in detecting an object that floated as low on the water
as the wreck. As for Biddy, unable to control her feelings, the poor
creature actually called to the crew of the departing vessel, as if her
voice had the power to make itself heard, at a distance which already
exceeded two leagues. It was only by means of the earnest remonstrances
of Rose, that the faithful creature could be quieted.

"Why will ye not come to our relaif?" she cried at the top of her voice.
"Here are we, helpless as new-born babies, and ye sailing away from us
in a conthrary way! D'ye not bethink you of the missus, who is much of
a sailor, but not sich a one as to sail on a wrack; and poor Miss Rose,
who is the char-rm and delight of all eyes. Only come and take off Miss
Rose, and lave the rest of us, if ye so likes; for it's a sin and a
shame to lave the likes of her to die in the midst of the ocean, as if
she was no betther nor a fish. Then it will be soon that we shall ag'in
feel the want of wather, and that, too, with nothing but wather to be
seen on all sides of us."

"It is of no use," said Harry, mournfully, stepping down from the keel,
and laying aside the shawl. "They cannot see us, and the distance is now
so great as to render it certain they never will. There is only one hope
left. We are evidently set to and fro by the tides, and it is possible
that by keeping in or near this passage, some other craft may appear,
and we be more fortunate. The relief of the rain is a sign that we are
not forgotten by Divine Providence, and with such a protector we ought
not to despair."

A gloomy and scanty breaking of the fast succeeded. Each person had one
large mouthful of bread, which was all that prudence would authorize
Mulford to distribute. He attempted a pious fraud, however, by placing
his own allowance along with that of Rose's, under the impression that
her strength might not endure privation as well as his own. But the
tender solicitude of Rose was not to be thus deceived. Judging of his
wishes and motives by her own, she at once detected the deception,
and insisted on retaining no more than her proper share. When this
distribution was completed, and the meagre allowance taken, only
sufficient bread remained to make one more similar scanty meal, if meal
a single mouthful could be termed. As for the water, a want of which
would be certain to be felt as soon as the sun obtained its noon-day
power, the shawl was extended over it, in a way to prevent evaporation
as much as possible, and at the same time to offer some resistance to
the fluid's being washed from its shallow receptacle by the motion of
the wreck, which was sensibly increasing with the increase of the wind
and waves.

Mulford had next an anxious duty to perform. Throughout the whole of
the preceding day he had seen the air escaping from the hull, in an
incessant succession of small bubbles, which were formidable through
their numbers, if not through their size. The mate was aware that this
unceasing loss of the buoyant property of the wreck, must eventually
lead to their destruction, should no assistance come, and he had marked
the floating line, on the bottom of the vessel with his knife, ere
darkness set in, on the previous evening. No sooner did his thoughts
recur to this fact, after the excitement of the first hour of daylight
was over, than he stepped to the different places thus marked, and saw,
with an alarm that it would be difficult to describe, that the wreck had
actually sunk into the water several inches within the last few hours.
This was, indeed, menacing their security in a most serious manner,
setting a limit to their existence, which rendered all precaution on the
subject of food and water useless. By the calculations of the mate,
the wreck could not float more than eight-and-forty hours, should it
continue to lose the air at the rate at which it had been hitherto lost.
Bad as all this appeared, things were fated to become much more serious.
The motion of the water quite sensibly increased, lifting the wreck at
times in a way greatly to increase the danger of their situation. The
reader will understand this movement did not proceed from the waves of
the existing wind, but from what is technically called a ground-swell,
or the long, heavy undulations that are left by the tempest that is
past, or by some distant gale. The waves of the present breeze were
not very formidable, the reef making a lee; though they might possibly
become inconvenient from breaking on the weather side of the wreck,
as soon as the drift carried the latter fairly abreast of the passage
already mentioned. But the dangers that proceeded from the heavy
ground-swell, which now began to give a considerable motion to the
wreck, will best explain itself by narrating the incidents as they
occurred.

Harry had left his marks, and had taken his seat on the keel at Rose's
side, impatiently waiting for any turn that Providence might next give
to their situation, when a heavy roll of the wreck first attracted his
attention to this new circumstance.

"If any one is thirsty," he observed quietly, "he or she had better
drink now, while it may be done. Two or three more such rolls as this
last will wash all the water from our gutters."

"Wather is a blessed thing," said Biddy, with a longing expression
of the eyes, "and it would be betther to swallow it than to let it be
lost."

"Then drink, for Heaven's sake, good woman--it may be the last occasion
that will offer."

"Sure am I that I would not touch a dhrap, while the missus and Miss
Rosy was a sufferin'."

"I have no thirst at all," answered Rose, sweetly, "and have already
taken more water than was good for me, with so little food on my
stomach."

"Eat another morsel of the bread, beloved," whispered Harry, in a manner
so urgent that Rose gratefully complied. "Drink, Biddy, and we will
come and share with you before the water is wasted by this increasing
motion."

Biddy did as desired, and each knelt in turn and took a little of the
grateful fluid, leaving about a gill in the gutters for the use of those
whose lips might again become parched.

"Wather is a blessed thing," repeated Biddy, for the twentieth time--"a
blessed, blessed thing is wather!"

A little scream from Mrs. Budd, which was dutifully taken up by the
maid, interrupted the speech of the latter, and every eye was turned on
Mulford, as if to ask an explanation of the groaning sound that had been
heard within the wreck. The young mate comprehended only too well. The
rolling of the wreck had lifted a portion of the open hatchway above
the undulating surface of the sea, and a large quantity of the pent air
within the hold had escaped in a body. The entrance of water to supply
the vacuum had produced the groan. Mulford had made new marks on the
vessel's bottom with his knife, and he stepped down to them, anxious and
nearly heart-broken, to note the effect. That one surging of the wreck
had permitted air enough to escape to lower it in the water several
inches. As yet, however, the visible limits of their floating foundation
had not been sufficiently reduced to attract the attention of the
females; and the young man said nothing on the subject. He thought that
Jack Tier was sensible of the existence of this new source of danger,
but if he were, that experienced mariner imitated his own reserve, and
made no allusion to it. Thus passed the day. Occasionally the wreck
rolled heavily, when more air escaped, the hull settling lower and lower
in the water as a necessary consequence. The little bubbles continued
incessantly to rise, and Mulford became satisfied that another day must
decide their fate. Taking this view of their situation, he saw no use in
reserving their food, but encouraged his companions to share the whole
of what remained at sunset. Little persuasion was necessary, and when
night once more came to envelope them in darkness, not a mouthful of
food or a drop of water remained to meet the necessities of the coming
morn. It had rained again for a short time, in the course of the
afternoon, when enough water had been caught to allay their thirst, and
what was almost of as much importance to the females now, a sufficiency
of sun had succeeded to dry their clothes, thus enabling them to sleep
without enduring the chilling damps that might otherwise have prevented
it. The wind had sensibly fallen, and the ground-swell was altogether
gone, but Mulford was certain that the relief had come too late. So much
air had escaped while it lasted as scarce to leave him the hope that
the wreck could float until morning. The rising of the bubbles was
now incessant, the crevices by which they escaped having most probably
opened a little, in consequence of the pressure and the unceasing action
of the currents, small as the latter were.

Just as darkness was shutting in around them for the second time, Rose
remarked to Mulford that it seemed to her that they had not as large a
space for their little world as when they were first placed on it. The
mate, however, successfully avoided an explanation; and when the watch
was again set for the night, the females lay down to seek their repose,
more troubled with apprehensions for a morrow of hunger and thirst,
than by any just fears that might so well have arisen from the physical
certainty that the body which alone kept them from being engulfed in
the sea, could float but a few hours longer. This night Tier kept the
look-out until Jupiter reached the zenith, when Mulford was called to