The heavens above were of a pitchy darkness, and the only
light was from the creaming foam of the sea on every side. The shift of
wind, which had been to the west-north-west, compelled them to alter
the course of the vessel, for they had no chance but to scud, as they
now did, under bare poles; but in consequence of the sea having taken
its run from the former wind, which had been north-east, it was, as
sailors call it, cross, and every minute the waves poured over the
ship, sweeping all before their weight of waters. One poor man was
washed overboard, and any attempt made to save him would have been
unavailing. Captain Osborn was standing by the weather gunnel, holding
on by one of the belaying-pins, when he said to Mackintosh:
"How long will this last, think you?"
"Longer than the ship will," replied the mate gravely.
"I should hope not," replied the captain; "still it cannot look worse.
What do you think, Ready?"
"Far more fear from above than from below just now," replied Ready,
pointing to the yard-arms of the ship, to each of which were little
balls of electric matter attached, flaring out to a point. "Look at
those two clouds, sir, rushing at each other; if I--"
Ready had not time to finish what he would have said, before a blaze of
light, so dazzling that it left them all in utter darkness for some
seconds afterwards, burst upon their vision, accompanied with a peal of
thunder, at which the whole vessel trembled fore and aft.
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