The captain watched the cloud for a moment, and then answered, quietly: “I think you are right, Mr. Holdfast. You may give your orders accordingly.” The sails were reefed, and the vessel was prepared for the warfare with the elements which awaited it. The little cloud increased portentiously in size. All at once a strong wind sprang up, the sea roughened, and the billows grew white with fury, while the good ship, stanch as she was, creaked and groaned and was tossed as if it were a toy boat on the wrathful ocean. The passengers were all seriously alarmed. They had never before realized what a storm at sea was. Even a man of courage may well be daunted by the terrific power of the sea when it is roused to such an exhibition. “Harry,” said the professor, “this is terrible.” “Yes, indeed,” answered the boy, gravely. It became so rough and difficult to stand on deck, on account of the vessel being tossed about like a cockleshell, that Harry felt constrained to go below. As he passed the cabin of Montgomery Clinton, he heard a faint voice call his name. Entering, he saw the dude stretched out in his berth, with an expression of helpless terror in his weak face. “Oh! Mr. Vane,” he said; “do you think we are going to the bottom?” “I hope not, Mr. Clinton. Our officers are skillful men. They will do all they can for us.” It was a terrible night. None of the passengers ventured upon deck. Indeed, such was the motion that it would have been dangerous, as even the sailors found it difficult to keep their footing. Harry was pale and quiet, unlike his friend from Brooklyn, whose moans were heard mingled with the noise of the tempest. It was about three o’clock in the morning when those below heard, with terror, a fearful crash, and a trampling of feet above. One of the masts had fallen before the fury of the storm, and the shock made the good ship careen to a dangerous extent. What happened, however, was not understood below. “I wonder what has happened,” said the professor, nervously. “I think I will go up and see.” He got out of his berth, but only to be pitched helpless to the other end of the cabin. “This is terrible!” he said, as he picked himself up. “I will try my luck, professor,” said Harry. He scrambled out of his berth, and, with great difficulty, made his way upstairs. One glance told him what had occurred. The crippled ship was laboring through the sea. It seemed like a very unequal combat, and Harry might be excused for deciding that the ship was doomed. All about the sea wore its fiercest aspect. Harry returned cautiously to his cabin. “Well?” said the professor. “One of the masts is gone,” answered the boy. “The ship is having a hard time.” “Is there danger?” asked the professor, anxiously. “I am afraid so,” said Harry, gravely.