There fell upon us a dead calm. The heat was insufferable; the sky was too blue to be looked at; the sea too dazzling to be gazed on; the sun too scorching to be endured. We turned night into day, without mending matters much. Gatty ran about, hot and panting, searching for a cool hole, while she declared that the ship was a great pie, which the sun had undertaken to bake, and that we were all the unfortunate pigeons destined to be stewed therein. "Then," said the matter-of-fact little Winny, "we must put all our feet together, and stick them up in the middle." One day, when we happened to be in that indescribable state—a sort of half consciousness of what was passing around—scarcely knowing whether we were dreaming or waking, we heard a knock at the door, and the hot but smiling face of our captain shewed itself. He was immediately assailed with innumerable questions. Was the heat going? Was the wind rising? When were we to go on? Why did he not whistle for a breeze? Where could we get out of the way of the sun? Was it possible to get into a shade? Could he give us anything to cool us? What would happen if we all went on being baked in this manner? In fact, the purport of his visit to the saloon at such an unusual hour was all but lost sight of in the midst of these queries when I asked him if anything was the matter. "I only wish to look at your barometer; something has happened to mine," was his reply. So amidst an uproar of young voices, with pullings, tuggings, and caresses, for he was a prodigious favourite, he accomplished his object. I was surprised to see such an expression of concern cross his countenance as he gazed at it, and questioning him thereon, he answered, "Why, Madam, I find both the barometers tell the same tale; therefore, what I imagined was owing to a fault in mine, I must now impute to some extraordinary change in the weather."

Gatty.—"I hope then it will be hard frost."

Felix.—"Or a storm, Gatty. I want the wind to blow, and the waves to be mountains high."

Lilly (yawning).—"I wish something would blow, and I wish I had two little slave girls to fan me as they do in India."

ZoË.—"I don't think I should; they would be so hot themselves, poor things, I should be quite sorry all the time."

Oscar.—"I vote for a hard frost, like Gatty, then we should have such splendid skating on the sea."

Serena.—"But, supposing (which I believe is no supposition, but a fact) that the sea freezes in waves, we could not then skate."

Gatty.—"Oh, don't talk any more of ice and frost, it makes one hotter still to think of the contrast."

I proceeded to enquire of the captain what change he expected.

Capt.—"Madam, it must be a storm of some kind; I have been becalmed very often, but I never endured such profound stillness and heat as there have been now for some days past. Dear little souls, I quite feel for the young people, Madam."

Mother.—"But, captain, is it likely to be a bad storm, or will there be any danger?"

Capt.—"You are all such good sailors that I am not at all afraid of telling you the truth. Indeed," looking smilingly on the surrounding faces, "I am thinking some of you will be glad to hear we are likely to have a hurricane!"

The babble on this announcement was tremendous. Gatty and Felix shook hands on the spot, and congratulated each other on the probable fulfilment of their secret wishes. Madame turned deadly pale, and sunk into a seat. My cousin tossed up her head, and said "anything is better than this confounded heat." I trembled; the two little girls clasped each other's hands half in fear, half in excitement; Sybil and Serena both looked pleased; and Oscar besought me to allow him to be on deck the whole time, that he might see the hurricane.

Capt. (seeing my alarm).—"You may be sure, Madam, I would not joke if I thought there was any danger. I have been in Chinese typhoons, hurricanes in the Tropics, and storms in the Atlantic, where one would imagine heaven and earth were coming together, and under the blessing of God" (here our captain bowed his head) "I apprehend nothing, Madam, but what care and skill can overcome."

Mother.—"But your face expressed great concern when you looked at the barometer; and, besides, you mentioned the heat and calm as greater than you ever before experienced."

Capt. (half hesitating).—"That is true, Madam, but I am such an ass, I cannot hide the impulse of the moment."

Mother.—"But, tell me, is this the impulse of the moment? Do you not fear a more than ordinary severe hurricane? Remember, you have praised us so much for being such good sailors, and so obedient to orders, that you must put us to the proof; and the more you take us into your confidence, the more well-behaved you will find us."

A number of voices, "Yes do, dear captain, tell us everything. Are we going to have a grand storm? Will there be ice and snow? Shall we have thunder and lightning? Will the waves be one hundred feet high? Do you think the masts will be blown away? Tell us that it will be a magnificent storm, whatever you do," said Gatty, winding up the noise.

Capt. (very much perplexed and anxiously).—"Dear little souls. Ma'am, it does my heart good to hear them. They ought all to have been born sailors, and bred to the sea into the bargain. Yes, my darlings, you shall have a grand storm, no doubt you shall have all your wish, whatever I can do for you, my little angels," and the good captain looked quite benignly at them all, giving great energetic kisses back for all the light rosy ones imprinted on his great Scotch face.

My cousin laughed as she turned to me and said, "Good as the captain is, I hope he is not really going to spoil those children and conjure up a prodigious storm for their amusement. Now brats, get out of the way, and let us have a little common sense. You think we shall have a storm, captain?"

Capt.—"I fear so, Madam; that is, I don't fear," apologetically turning to the young ones, "but I have no doubt we shall have a storm."

Schillie.—"Then you would advise my betaking myself to bed, I suppose, immediately."

Capt.—"No, Ma'am, no, for I cannot judge when we shall have it, not these twenty-four hours yet."

Schillie.—"But, pray, have you any advice to give us against the storm does come. When a horse kicks, I am well aware that the rider has solely to think of sticking on; but, I confess, storms and their consequences are quite out of my way."

Capt.—"Indeed, Madam, I should be greatly obliged if you would undertake to keep everybody quiet below, the children especially: if they come running up after me, dear little souls. I shall be thinking too much of them to mind my ship."

Schillie.—"Then I will take particular good care they are kept out of your way. I have no mind to lose my life for a parcel of spoilt animals. But, otherwise, you think there is no danger?"

Capt.—"Why she is a good boat, a very good boat; I fear nothing as long as we have room."

Gatty.—"Room, captain, what sort of room?"

Capt.—"Sea room, begging your pardon, Miss. I quite forgot you would not understand me."

Gatty now pouted in mortification that her intended laugh at the captain should be construed into ignorance on her part of what he meant, and the colloquy was broken up by the captain being sent for. We crawled on deck, as a matter of duty, panting and exhausted with doing nothing. Though we had bright blue sky above us, and the glittering sea around us, I never shall forget the brazen, hard, heated look that everything appeared to possess. The sky seemed to be gradually turning into brass, the ship looking like brass, we feeling like brass. It was horrible; and it was with no slight pleasure I heard a moaning wind rise slowly in the night, freshening into a gale by morning. Ere twenty-four hours had passed, with bare poles we were driven through the water just as a child's walnut shell might be tossed on a rough ocean. Here, there, and everywhere the sea rose, each wave with a crest to it madly buffeting and fighting with the others, yet each apparently bent on attacking the vessel, freighted with such precious lives. The wind whistled and roared until every other sound was lost. We could hear it gathering in the distance, then collecting, as it were, strength, rage, and speed as it advanced, it poured all its wrath and fury upon what appeared to us, the only victim with which it had to deal. The noble vessel bent, as it were, her graceful head in deprecation of such furious rage and turmoil, and shivering from bow to stern, would again rise lightly and proudly, as if appalled, but yet indignant at the rough usage she was receiving; yet far above the rattling wind the pealing thunder rolled with majestic sound, while the incessant lightning showed us the mad waves in all their forms. From time to time the captain sent us kind messages. We got used to the noise, uproar, and shocks; but, nevertheless, we could perceive the gale increased instead of abating. We bore it well for twelve hours, not a murmur, not a fear was expressed; but, after a shock, so tremendous that the vessel trembled to her inmost timber, a faint shriek was heard from Madame, this was echoed from the deck, it seemed to strike the ship motionless. As our breath returned to us, slowly and labouringly did she rise, heavy and waterlogged; how unlike the buoyant creature she had been a few moments before. Alas! that fatal cry was not without its signification; a sea had struck her, and in sweeping off seven men, had filled the ship with water, and carried away rudder, deck-house, and everything. Then, indeed, fear took possession of our minds. Amidst the roaring of the wind, the earnest and solemn prayers of Madame might be heard, as she sat in the gloom of the cabin, with ashen face and clasped hands, while the wailing sobs of the little girls came mingled with subdued cries from the elder ones. The two boys sat with faces uplifted, and their large eyes distended in fear and awe, as if their wild wishes had caused this awful tempest. The servants, unable to bear their fears alone, were seated in a distant part of the saloon, the wringing hands of the one and the deep groans of the other testifying the anguish and terror of their minds. Unawed by the dreadful turmoil above and the painful scene around her, Schillie alone seemed fearless and unmoved; steadying herself by the cabin door, she stood erect, and, as she looked at each of us, the calm undaunted expression of her countenance seemed to impart to us the courage her words would have given could we have heard them.

The heavy rolling of the ship became each moment more apparent; the timbers creaked and groaned; as if satisfied with the mischief it had done, the wind ceased its wild uproar, and, during the temporary calm that succeeded, we learned the loss of the seven men, hurled at once into eternity, the wreck of all on deck, and the fatal consequences still more likely to ensue from the sea we had shipped. The pumps were manned immediately, and a temporary rudder made from one of the spars. So little did the captain hide our danger from us that he accepted the offer for those that could to help at the pumps; this enabled him to spare two men for the rudder and other work he thought necessary.

Madame remained below with the children, beseeching for that aid which is equally necessary on sea or shore, and Hargrave, being helpless from fear and despair, remained with her. Wrapping ourselves up in warm close garments, we took our places, two at one and two at another pump, to help the men; and we had the exquisite gratification of finding that our labours were successful, for once more La Luna rode lightly on the waters, and our captain, in the broadest Scotch, which he always used when agitated, expressed his heartfelt happiness, while he let out, in broken exclamations of thankfulness, the fear he had entertained that her waterlogged condition might have proceeded from the starting of some of her timbers; and, indeed, the shocks and buffets she had received from the angry waves, with the straining and pitching, made us, inexperienced mariners as were, wonder, more than once, that she was not riven into a thousand pieces. Many were the fond words and endearing epithets bestowed on the brave La Luna by the good captain while he apostrophized her, as if endued with life and consciousness, beseeching her to hold on yet awhile, by all the good angels in heaven, by the mighty powers of the deep, by the love she bore to those within her, by the affection they bore to her, by the value of their lives, by the preciousness of the little innocent children, by the hopes she had given them of her strength and goodness; while he promised her in return every good thing on sea or in sky, fair breezes, bright sun, and ever-flowing sheet, with the devoted love and affection of all on board.

Towards evening, the moaning wind again rose in furious gusts, and we were recalled from the calm into which we had been sunk by the sudden and awful death that had befallen so many of our companions (a feeling only to be felt at sea) to a repetition of all we had undergone before, save in that one instance. In the language of scripture, "we strake sail, and so were driven." The sky was as pitch, the waves furious, the wind awful. Night and day passed without thought or heed. Working at the pumps had done us all good, diverting our minds from the loss we had sustained, and preventing us from dwelling on the perils surrounding us. But now we had nothing to do, and we experienced, in its full force, that heart-sickness consequent upon hope deferred. Hours sped on, yet still the ship was driven like a mad thing through the water. Bruised and sore, from the various falls and shocks we hourly received, hungry and faint from inability to get the food so necessary for our exhausted frames, death seemed our inevitable doom.