Fortunately, the rain had ceased, and there seemed to be no increase in the wind; indeed, if anything, there appeared to be rather less; yet what there was drove the flames of the flare-ups out into occasional, twisting serpents of fire at least a yard long. About half-way up the topmast rigging, the Second Mate sung out to the Skipper, to know whether Plummer should light his flare; but the Old Man said he had better wait until we reached the crosstrees, as then he could get out away from the gear to where there would be less danger of setting fire to anything. We neared the crosstrees, and the Old Man stopped and sung out to me to pass him the lantern by Quoin. A few ratlines more, and both he and the Second Mate stopped almost simultaneously, holding their lanterns as high as possible, and peered up into the darkness. "See any signs of him, Mr. Tulipson?" the Old Man asked. "No, Sir," replied the Second. "Not a sign." He raised his voice. "Stubbins," he sung out. "Stubbins, are you there?" We listened; but nothing came to us beyond the blowing moan of the wind, and the flap, flap of the bellying t'gallant above. The Second Mate climbed over the crosstrees, and Plummer followed. The man got out by the royal backstay, and lit his flare. By its light we could see, plainly; but there was no vestige of Stubbins, so far as the light went. "Get out on to the yard-arms with those flares, you two men," shouted the Skipper. "Be smart now! Keep them away from the sail!" The men got on to the foot-ropes--Quoin on the port, and Jaskett on the starboard side. By the light from Plummer's flare, I could see them clearly, as they lay out upon the yard. It occurred to me that they went gingerly--which is no surprising thing. And then, as they drew near to the yard-arms, they passed beyond the brilliance of the light; so that I could not see them clearly. A few seconds passed, and then the light from Quoin's flare streamed out upon the wind; yet nearly a minute went by, and there was no sign of Jaskett's. Then out from the semi-darkness at the starboard yard-arm, there came a curse from Jaskett, followed almost immediately by a noise of something vibrating. "What's up?" shouted the Second Mate. "What's up, Jaskett?" "It's ther foot-rope, Sir-r-r!" he drew out the last word into a sort of gasp. The Second Mate bent quickly, with the lantern. I craned round the after side of the top-mast, and looked. "What is the matter, Mr. Tulipson?" I heard the Old Man singing out.