The motion of the sloop, notwithstanding the experience which the passenger had gained in the pilot-boat, overwhelmed him with unutterable sickness, and he lay on the deck in such affliction, that he once rashly wished he was drowned. The cabin-boy who attended him was so horror-struck at hearing so profane a wish at sea, while the wind was rising on a lee shore, that he left him to shift for himself. For some time the master did not think it necessary to shorten sail, but only to stretch out towards the south-east; but, as the sun mounted towards the meridian, the gale so continued to increase, that he not only found it necessary to reef, but in the end to hand almost all his canvas save the foresail. Still, as there were no clouds, no rain, no thunder nor lightning, the sea-sick Glasgow merchant dreamt of no danger. ‘Maybe,’ said the cabin-boy in passing, as the Laird happened to look up from his prostrate situation on the deck, ‘ye’ll get your ugly wish oure soon.’ The regardless manner and serious tone in which this was said had an immediate and restorative effect. Mr. Walkinshaw roused himself, and, looking round, was surprised to see the sails taken in; and, casting his eyes to leeward, beheld, with a strong emotion of consternation, the ocean boiling with tremendous violence, and the spindrift rising like steam. ‘It blows a dreadful gale?’ said he inquiringly to the master. ‘It does,’ was the emphatic reply. ‘I hope there is no danger,’ cried the merchant, alarmed, and drawing himself close under the larboard gunnel. The master, who was looking anxiously towards Duncansby-head, which presented a stupendous tower of foaming spray, over the starboard bow, replied,-- ‘I hope we shall be able to weather Noss-head.’ ‘And if we do not,’ said Mr. Walkinshaw, ‘what’s to be done?’ ‘You’ll be drowned,’ cried the cabin-boy, who had seated himself on the lee-side of the companion; and the bitterness of the reproachful accent with which this was said stung the proud merchant to the quick--but he said nothing; his fears were, however, now all awake, and he saw, with a feeling of inexpressible alarm, that the crew were looking eagerly and sorrowfully towards the roaring precipices of Caithness. Still the vessel kept bravely to her helm, and was working slowly outward; but, as she gradually wore round, her broadside became more and more exposed to the sea, and once or twice her decks were washed fore and aft. ‘This is terrible work, Captain,’ said Mr. Walkinshaw. ‘It is,’ was all the answer he received. ‘Is there no port we can bear away for?’ ‘None.’ ‘Good Heavens! Captain, if this continues till night?’ The master eyed him for a moment, and said with a shudder,-- ‘If it does, sir, we shall never see night.’ ‘You’ll be drowned,’ added the little boy, casting an angry look from behind the companion. ‘Almighty Powers!--surely we are not in such danger?’ exclaimed the terrified merchant. ‘Hold your tongue,’ again cried the boy.