"Are ye sure, lad, ye saw them in the Bible?"
"Quite sure," I replied.
Almost before the words had left my lips the wind burst upon us, and the
spray dashed over our decks. For a time the schooner stood it bravely,
and sprang forward against the rising sea like a war-horse. Meanwhile
clouds darkened the sky, and the sea began to rise in huge billows.
There was still too much sail on the schooner, and as the gale
increased, I feared that the masts would be torn out of her or carried
away, while the wind whistled and shrieked through the strained rigging.
Suddenly the wind shifted a point, a heavy sea struck us on the bow,
and the schooner was almost laid on her beam-ends, so that I could
scarcely keep my legs. At the same moment Bill lost his hold of the
belaying-pin which had served to steady him, and he slid with stunning
violence against the skylight. As he lay on the deck close beside me, I
could see that the shock had rendered him insensible; but I did not dare
to quit the tiller for an instant, as it required all my faculties,
bodily and mental, to manage the schooner. For an hour the blast drove
us along, while, owing to the sharpness of the vessel's bow and the
press of canvas, she dashed through the waves instead of breasting over
them, thereby drenching the decks with water fore and aft. At the end
of that time the squall passed away, and left us rocking on the bosom of
the agitated sea.
My first care, the instant I could quit the helm, was to raise Bill from
the deck and place him on the couch. I then ran below for the
brandy-bottle, and rubbed his face and hands with it, and endeavoured to
pour a little down his throat. But my efforts, although I continued
them long and assiduously, were of no avail; as I let go the hand which
I had been chafing, it fell heavily on the deck. I laid my hand over
his heart, and sat for some time quite motionless; but there was no
flutter there--the pirate was dead!