When morning at length dawned, the hurricane began to abate. The wind ceased almost as rapidly as it had commenced; but the once stout ship, now almost a wreck, rolled heavily in the still tumbling seas. As yet little could be done to get her put to rights. She was still at a considerable distance from Jamaica, and with his diminished crew, Jack saw that it would take some time to rig jury-masts, and thus enable him to shape a proper course for Port Royal. As soon, however, as the sea went sufficiently down, and the ship became steadier, he ordered the crew to commence the work. His own men willingly obeyed; but the Frenchmen walked forward sullenly, declaring that there would be no use in exerting themselves, and positively refusing to work. While they were acting thus, Burridge brought him word that several had, by some means or other, got hold of fire-arms and hangers, and were evidently prepared for mischief. "We must watch our opportunity, and try to disarm them," observed John Deane. "Work they must, by some means or other, or else they must be put in irons." To do this, however, was no easy task, considering that there were as many Frenchmen as Englishmen, and the former were evidently desperate fellows. Hawke was fortunately able to speak French very well, and Jack directed him therefore to address the mutineers, and ask them again whether they would assist in putting the ship into order. A flat refusal was the answer, and thus the whole day was occupied. The following night was one of great anxiety, as it became necessary to keep a constant watch over the Frenchmen, lest they should suddenly attack the English and attempt to regain the ship. Jack did not allow himself a moment's rest, but continued, with arms by his side, pacing the deck, while a constant watch was kept on the movements of the mutineers. Dawn at length broke; and soon after the sun rose above the horizon its bright rays struck on the sails of a large vessel which was seen standing towards the "Coquille," with a light breeze then blowing. Jack anxiously watched her through his glass, hoping, from the cut of her sails, that she might prove an English man-of-war. As she came on, he hoisted on the stump of the main-mast the English ensign reversed, the signal of distress. On the nearer approach of the stranger, however, Deane observed that the English flag was not hoisted in return, which would have been the case had she been a friend. If she had been at sea during the hurricane, she had escaped wonderfully well, for her masts and yards were as trim as if she had just come out of port. Her decks, too, seemed crowded with men. In a short time, running under the stern of the "Coquille," she "hove to," and a man with a speaking-trumpet hailed from her deck, demanding the name of the vessel, and where she was bound to. "A prize to Her Majesty's ship `Venus,' and bound for Port Royal," answered Jack.