This Captain Anderson understood at last, for I saw him run to the little wheel on the bridge which commanded the movement of the rudder, the steam immediately rushed into the cylinders at the stern, and the giant turning like a canoe made head towards the north, and fled before the storm. At this moment, the Captain, generally so calm and self-possessed, cried angrily,— “My ship is disgraced.” CHAPTER XXV. Scarcely had the “Great Eastern” tacked and presented her stern to the waves, than the pitching gave way to perfect steadiness; breakfast was served, and the greater part of the passengers, reassured by the ship’s stillness, came into the dining-rooms, and took their repast without fear of another shock. Not a plate fell off the table, and not a glass emptied its contents on to the cloth, although the racks had not even been put up. But three quarters of an hour later the furniture was set in motion again, and the crockery clattered together on the pantry shelves, for the “Great Eastern” had resumed her westerly course, which for the time had been interrupted. I went on deck again with Dr. Pitferge, who seeing the man belonging to the dolls said to him,— “Your little people have been put to a severe test, sir; those poor babies will never prattle in the United States.” “Pshaw!” replied the enterprising Parisian, “the stock was insured, and my secret has not perished with it.” It was evident my countryman was not a man to be easily disheartened, he bowed to us with a pleasant smile, and we continued our way to the stern, where a steersman told us that the rudder-chains had been jammed in the interval between the two swoops. “If that accident had happened when we were turning,” said Pitferge to me, “I cannot say what would have become of us, for the sea would have rushed in, in overwhelming torrents; the steam pumps have already begun to reduce the water, but there is more coming yet.” “And what of the unfortunate sailor?” asked I of the Doctor. “He is severely wounded on his head, poor fellow! he is a young married fisherman, the father of two children, and this is his first voyage. The Doctor seems to think there is hope of his recovery, and that is what makes me fear for him, but we shall soon see for ourselves. A report was spread that several men had been washed overboard, but happily there was no foundation for it.” “We have resumed our course at last,” said I.