"Yes, indeed, sir, it has," answered I, "it has gone down nearly
one-tenth!"
"Then, by the piper, we're in for something out of the common, and the
sooner we set about preparing for it, the better!" exclaimed Ryan. "Ah!
I see you have already furled everything; well, that leaves us so much
the less to be still done. Call all hands, however, for we may have it
upon us at any moment, by the look of things up there," pointing to the
frowning, ruddy sky. "Rig in the jib-boom, and send down all but the
lower-yard on deck, and both topmasts as well. Set some of the men to
secure the canvas with double gaskets; and close-reef the boom-foresail
and set it. Let the carpenter look to the hatches and see that they are
securely battened down, and he had better examine the pumps also; our
lives may depend upon them before all is over. Where is the boatswain?
Oh, is that you, Bartlett? Give an eye to the boats' gripes, will you,
and see that they are all right. I have known a boat to be blown clean
from the davits before now. Hurrah, men! look alive with those yards,
and let us have them down here on deck as quickly as possible."
The schooner was by this time as busy as a beehive in swarming-time, the
men working with a will, since they knew, from the sharp, incisive tones
in which Ryan issued his orders, as well as by the menacing aspect of
the sky, that the occasion was pressing. Fortunately, in so small and
lightly-rigged a craft as the _Felicidad_, the task of preparing her for
the forthcoming battle with the elements was not a heavy one, and, being
well manned for our size, we were soon ready.
None too soon, however. For hardly had the finishing touches been given
to our preparations, and the guns and boats made thoroughly secure, than
we were momentarily dazzled and blinded by a terrific flash of blue
lightning that seemed to dart from the clouds immediately overhead, and
to strike the water close to us, filling the dead and heavy air with a
strong odour of brimstone, while simultaneously we were deafened and
stunned by a most awful, ear-splitting _crack_ of thunder that made the
schooner quiver from stem to stern as though she had been struck by a
heavy shot.
Ryan, Pierrepoint, and I were all standing close together near the
companion at the moment when the lightning flashed out, illumining the
whole scene for an instant with a light as brilliant as that of the
noonday sun, and while I was still in process of recovering from the
shock produced by the terrifying crash of the thunder, I heard my
fellow-mid exclaim to the captain--
"There! did you see that, sir? There is a craft of some sort away out
there," pointing in a north-easterly direction. "I saw her as
distinctly as possible. She is about six miles away, and is stripped to
her close-reefed topsails--"
"Did you see that ship out there on our port-quarter, sir?" hailed one
of the men from the forecastle, interrupting Master Freddy in his tale.
"No," answered Ryan sharply. "I wasn't looking that way. What did she
look like?"
"She is a square-rigged craft of about three or four hundred tons, under
close-reefed topsails, lying end-on to us, sir," answered the man.
"Surely it can't be our old friend the barque that has drifted within
view of us again during the darkness?" exclaimed Ryan excitedly. "Keep
a good look-out for her, lads, when the next flash comes," he added in
an eager tone of voice, that showed conclusively how secondary a matter
the impending outburst of the elements had already become to him in view
of this new discovery.
No second flash came, however, but instead of it, and almost as the last
words left Ryan's lips, the clouds above us burst, and there descended
from them the heaviest downpour of rain that I had ever up to that time
witnessed. Those who have never beheld a tropical thunder-shower can
form no conception of what it is like. Imagine yourself to be standing
immediately under a large tank of warm water, and then further imagine
that the contents of this tank are suddenly capsized right on top of
you; multiply the quantity of falling water a million times, and suppose
the descent of the water to be continued for from three to six or seven
minutes, and you will then have an imperfect conception of the sort of
drenching that we received on the occasion of which I am now speaking.
The decks were flooded in an instant, and before I could wriggle into my
oil-skins I was soaked to the skin, and the warm water was washing above
my ankles with the roll of the schooner. The scuppers were wholly
inadequate to the occasion, and we were obliged to open the ports to get
rid of the water and prevent it from getting below. The downpour lasted
some four minutes or so, ceasing as abruptly and with as little warning
as it had commenced; but in that time it had beaten down the swell so
effectually that our motion was scarcely more perceptible than it would
have been in a well-sheltered roadstead; and the effect of the sudden
cessation of the noises that had been so recently sounding in our ears,
and of the crash of the downpour, was very weird and curious, the dead
silence now being broken only by an occasional faint creak or jar of
bulkhead or boom, and the loud gush and gurgle of the water pouring from
the scuppers.
The silence was of no long duration, however, for we had scarcely found
time to become sensible of it when a faint moaning sound arose in the
air, coming from no one knew where; and, presently, with a still louder
moan, a sudden, furious, scuffle of wind swept past us, causing our
reefed foresail to flap loudly, and was gone. The moanings grew louder
and more weird, sounding now on the port-quarter, now on the starboard
bow, then broad abeam, and anon high over our mastheads; it was clear
that small, partial currents of air were in violent motion all round us,
and that the crisis was at hand.