The men ranged themselves along the lee-bulwarks, chains, and gangway and passed the deep sea-lines from aft to the anchor stock forward. The deep sea lead was taken forward, and as soon as it was bent and ready, the ship was thrown up to the wind so as to check her way. "Heave," and the lead was thrown, and as it descended the line was dropped from the hands of the men, one after another, as the line drew aft; but when it came to the hands of the master, who was on the quarter, instead of finding, as he expected, forty fathoms of water, he had to haul in the slack line for such a length of time, that the lead was astern and no proper soundings could be obtained. One thing was, however, certain, which was, that we were in much shallower water than we had any idea of; and the master, much alarmed, desired the quarter-master to go into the chains and see if he could get soundings with the hand-lead while the men were hauling in the deep sea-line. The quarter-master was forestalled by Bob Cross who, dropping into the chains, cleared the line, and swinging it but twice or thrice, for there was little or no way in the vessel, let it go. The anxiety with which the descent of the line was watched by me, the master, and other of the officers who were hanging over the hammock rails, it would be difficult to describe. When sixteen fathoms were out the lead sounded. Cross gathered up the slack line, and fourteen and a half fathoms was announced. "Mr Hillyer," said I, "oblige me by coming down into the cabin." The master followed me immediately. The chart was on the table in the fore-cabin. "We must have gone to leeward dreadfully, sir." "Yes," replied I; "but the sweep of the currents in heavy gales is so tremendous, and so uncertain on this coast, that I am not surprised. We must have had a South East current, and probably we are hereabouts," continued I, putting the point of the compass upon the spot. "It seems hardly possible, sir," replied the master; "but still I fear it must be so; and if so," continued he, drawing a deep sigh, "I'm afraid it's all over with us, without a miracle in our favour." "I am of your opinion, Mr Hillyer; but say nothing about it," replied I; "the gale _may_ moderate, the wind _may_ shift, and if so we _may_ be saved. At all events, it's no use telling bad news too soon, and therefore you'll oblige me by not saying anything on the subject. A few hours will decide our fate." "But the Dryad, she is good four miles to the leeward of us, and the soundings decrease here so rapidly, that in an hour, with the sail she is under, she must go on shore." "She has no chance, that's certain," replied I. "I only hope it may be so thick that we may not see her."